


Boys They Like The Look of Danger

by jbaecob



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Car Accidents, Car Sex, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, I Wrote This To Myself But You Can Read It If You Want, M/M, Miscommunication, Overthinking, Pining, Rivals With Benefits, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Street Racing, and, quite?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbaecob/pseuds/jbaecob
Summary: Sangyeon knows a lot of things - be them legal, illegal, you name it. He's wellversed in a lot of the matters of the street. Also, from his simplist office job as an accountant, there are more than a few things that he knows about. When he dared life to give him harder challenges, he wasn't expecting one in the molds of a badly told story - a story without a proper start. A poor tale to be ignored by trobadours - off balance.He wasn't expecting a challenge not only hard, but seeming impossible to decypher, which causes, allegedly, a ton of headaches. His street races were where his life primarly found will, contrasting with his socially acceptable occupations; and where he knew his grounds, the do's and don'ts, the people. People.When he dared life to give him harder challenges, he wasn't expecting a person. And when you don't expect a person, they thwart your beliefs and make you hobble, and Sangyeon hates this feeling. Or so he says.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Lee Sangyeon, Lee Jaehyun | Hyunjae & Lee Sangyeon
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	Boys They Like The Look of Danger

**Author's Note:**

> i should probably WARN you that this story isn't focused much on the street racing. and yes, i've done some lame research about street racing when i went super serious about it, but then i got lazy. it got no fast and furious vibes i am sorry. 
> 
> reasons for this fic:  
> \- street racer sangyeon is sexc  
> \- jacob acting the exact opposite of his self is also sexc  
> \- i like making jacob seem like he's sangyeon's personal hell  
> \- because i wanted to  
> I HAVE A PLAYLIST FOR IT HOLD ON yes for some time i was heavily inspired by how to be a heartbreaker by marina  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4W4gUyLzhubrj9uYfe4H4J i hope u enjoy it they kinda tell a story <3

“Fuck- I was on him!” Sangyeon almost throws his phone on the ground, trying to feel and appear a little more upset than he truly is. The men surrounding his car don’t buy it one bit, and he’s so sure of it that it’s painful, but he isn’t going to give up on so easily.

“Sure you were, whipped ass.” One of them snorts, and he resumes his raging fit. It actually doesn’t go away, because he’s got some fucked up images in his head that he deeply wants to forget but he can’t. 

The bastard got some new piercings. Showed them all to Sangyeon last night. 

He could’ve used that as a reason to race towards him more fast - and he did, at some point- but once he was paralleled to that _little_ \- that devious bastard, the piercing on his mouth glinting dangerously from the very corner of his plump lips, he fucking winked at Sangyeon. 

Sangyeon’s a goner - he had no problem admitting that. To himself, only. Inside his head and nowhere else. 

“If you start to lose races because of that, it’s on sight, bro,” Juyeon slides an arm around Sangyeon’s shoulder and shakes him, speaking just loud enough for them to hear, “You’ve got to get a hold of this problem, like, by now.” 

“Don’t act like a know-it-all around me,” he murmurs, and Juyeon snickers by his side, “I think I’ve been babbling too much for you to act like that so quickly.”

They start to walk behind the main group, boisterous laugh and fast talk sometimes making Sangyeon look up. Those streets were getting too comfortable; he misses the adrenaline of the new, the uncharted. 

Juyeon brings him back from his thoughts, “No, I just think you’ve been too transparent. It’s not like anyone wouldn’t notice.” 

Sangyeon hates how he has to slightly look up to reach Juyeon’s eyes, but he does it anyways. He doesn’t say anything though, just lets out a quite unfitting laugh. 

This isn’t a problem to be talked about there and at that time. He was on to some beers to forget about that stinky loss- that reeks of unsolved, dangerous (overall, ridiculous) tension. Sangyeon looks back at their cars perfectly parked and urges Juyeon to catch up with the rest of the group. He’s got a lot to think about. 

Sangyeon always thought that leather pants were kinda overrated. He’s got used to wearing them right after he was introduced to the illegal races, inspired (more like compelled) by the ones who showed him the tricks and the- _the juice_. It was just a matter of fashion as well as a matter of intimidation. He was dealing with some big guys back then. 

Now, leather pants were nothing more than a fucking nuisance every time he was trying to be quick and direct. 

Where he was, everything would have to work like that, or it just wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to complain about it, but the loud music poorly muffled by the thin walls of the apartment of one of the guys was making him more jittery than usual. He was conflicted - pretty much so, since he doesn’t remember the last time he’s got so fixated on a damn problem that everything else was just blur around him. He suppressed a noise of annoyance from ripping out of his throat, failing to focus on that difficult task.

After some time trying to detach the material from the guy who was gracefully sprawled on the bed, waiting, he gave up. And of course he would notice it, springing up until he was practically sitting on Sangyeon’s lap. 

He laughed through his nose, “What’s with you today?” With no visible response from Sangyeon, he prods a little more, “Been thinking about the last race? It’s not your fault-”

“I’m glad we’re both on the same page,” he places his hands on his thighs, pants awkwardly clinging halfway to them. He firmly forces the guy back on the bed, swinging a leg near his hip to keep him there. “You’ve fucked it up so bad. I already have one on my tail.”

“Well, that’s _your_ problem-”

“It’s gonna be your problem too if I don’t fucking rip off this pants of hell from you, bastard.” 

He laughed again, this time the sound resounded around the walls - if Sangyeon wasn’t being too stupid, it would've kinda reminded him of things purer than they were. 

“I thought you liked them,” he hissed at a particularly hard tug, where Sangyeon’s fingers pinched his skin lightly. 

“They’re okay.” 

He grunted at the same time Jacob pouted- and the name he was trying so hard to keep away from his head came back to him like a fucking adrift truck. Name and all of it- all of his expressions and the way his voice molded to the words like they were supposed to be expelled by his mouth only. 

“They’re _okay_?” His pout became more evident, and Sangyeon sighed. 

“They’re not terrible.” He concluded, lying through his teeth like the little shit he was. Jacob’s pants were being finally thrown at the ground when he muttered, “I wonder how everyone thinks you’re a badass just because of those pants and a black hair slicked back.”

Jacob looked outraged, but not so much, “It’s because I win races too, blockhead. Now please, go on with that because I’ve been thinking about it for _so_ long. So, so, _so-_ ”

Sangyeon threw a barely heavy hand on his naked thigh, “I got it.”

 _Shut up_ . Sangyeon mopped. _He’s been thinking about_ it _all night, not about me_. 

Jacob squeezed his thighs together, licking his lips in anticipation. Sangyeon couldn’t deny him anything when he was so enthusiastic about it. It was painful - like, physically painful to watch. He also thought, though, that it was going to do him some good those moments of learning how to control himself to be able to control the other. 

At some time he was going to be a fucking expert at that. 

Jacob’s countless piercings were blinking at him through the dim lit room, and he could see them all - the left eyebrow one; the one in the mouth, that was fairly new; the septum one, maybe the first he got. He delicately got a hold of Jacob’s shirt and lifted it slightly, only enough to take a look inside and barely see the nipple ones staring back at him. 

He especially hated those ones with a burning passion. 

Jacob’s breath got caught in his throat when, instead of pulling his shirt off like he did with the pants, Sangyeon just ran his hands along the extension of Jacob’s chest almost feather-light, just to tease. 

He knew they didn’t have all the time in the world but, inside that room, locked door and their breaths hitting each other’s face, he could let himself dream a little further. Jacob wasn’t so fond of the wait, but he always did. It was truly like waiting for Sangyeon to get his shit together was turning into a common act, like there was nothing wrong in letting him linger a little too much- like Jacob couldn’t care less about it. If he’s going to be receiving what he wants, then he isn’t in a place to complain. 

And Sangyeon liked to bask into that fake vulnerability, he appreciated the way Jacob always looked like he was ready to grant Sangyeon’s every wish - when in reality, the listening walls would assure that, on the contrary, he was the only one granting wishes there, and he wasn’t planning on getting anything back so early. 

He didn’t feel like it. 

Jacob’s mouth was so close to his that, for a moment, it truly felt like there was no other thing he was supposed to do in this world other than kiss him fully. Their lips clashed uncomfortably - Sangyeon’s pouring his cold frustration into it, hoping that Jacob’s exasperation mixed with burning heat wouldn’t notice it. 

“Last race really wasn’t your best, hm?”

 _Fuck it_. It was a Monday morning. He’s got better things to do than talk about something he’d rather forget. 

A grunt was answer enough to make Hyunjae feel confident in his bullshit.

“Someone told me you’ve quite out of it lately, is it true?” 

Sangyeon would pay _millions_ to go back in time and never join something like that. It had never made his dad proud anyways - seeing your son almost always getting into jail just because he can’t keep quiet for some days isn’t something one should be proud of. He hasn’t been like this since ever; some people are always trying to turn the good into bad and he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Eventually, something akin to satisfaction started to grow on him every time he’d win a race, and he’s moved from his little town to the capital just to get the best of it. 

Bigger city, bigger problems- tougher cops. All that started to take a space in his life that he didn’t imagine it would. And sooner than he had thought, he was living two lives - one as a simple office worker for a small contability company, the other as a street racer with little to no scruples when it came to win.

Those two weren’t defined by different personalities, though. He was basically the same person through them all - righteous, full of pride, hard working and compassive. Although winning has always left the sweetest taste in his mouth and he would do everything to get it, there were a few things that made him back out every now and then. 

One of them came in the form of a preposterous human being. 

"If I remember correctly, you were the one that said that _nothing_ ever beats a Lee when they're trying to win," Hyunjae purposefully muses out loud, taking advantage that Sangyeon's paperwork was long forgotten, "I wonder what makes such a man lose not once but twice in a row and call it a day?" 

Sangyeon isn't sure if the deep sigh comes from exhaustion or pure, deliberate controlled breaths to not punch anyone in the face. His day wasn't over yet. It was only ten in the morning, for fucks sake. 

"No need to keep wondering," he hisses, feeling an actual vessel pop against his temple, "I'll call you when any of this is your concern." 

Hyunjae's eyes boggle at the ferocity but he laughs, "I love you, man," his face glints in mischief but mostly pure joy, "I hope you know that when I sense something, it's certain that I know that bullshit and the bullshitter." 

He's very aware of the face he's making but he absolutely doesn't give a fuck. 

"This didn't make sense and you're a nuisance. Please get out of my face and- Is the coffee machine fixed? I'll throw punches if-" 

"It does make sense!" the younger exclaims, still in front of Sangyeon's workstation, "And yup- Want a cup?" 

His face brightened up considerably. 

"Good!" At that, Hyunjae smiles warmly at him. "Now get outta here." 

Hyunjae wasn’t always a prick. He was one of Sangyeon’s closest friends - and seeing that after joining the street racing scene he didn’t have much of them to help him figure it out everything, he likes to cherish him from time to time. Sporadically. Almost never. Because he is, how do you say it, a very needy, attention-seeker human being that, ironically, doesn’t like to be dotted on frequently. Sangyeon likes him for moments when he needs to talk things out in ways he isn’t sure he needed in the first place. Somehow, Hyunjae knows it (and brags about it). 

Only a few months after getting his racing car and fueling it with juice, he got introduced to a bunch of other double-life young men and… Fit. He felt like both of his lives were worth the stretch - if he was going to be all day in the office for a whole week, then what’s wrong with spending the weekend away from home and other responsibilities? There weren’t very happy outcomes when they weren’t ready enough to face the obvious and impending force of the law but… With time, practice and a good chunk of money, there are few things in this life that wouldn’t do. 

He realises that he cares more about the people entering his routine and partially staying in than other… _Law_ related things that come with illegally racing with a few dudes in his free time. Which takes him to that fucking bastard, whom he does not want to think about, but at least ninety percent of his daily thoughts swims towards him like a vice. 

Hyunjae comes back with two cups of steaming hot coffee and he purposefully burns his tongue to force himself out of this degrading thinking. 

He isn't about to let that freak win against him _again_. 

He wasn't even up to race until the last minute, since he got caught up in a stupid little fight with other two coworkers and they weren't about to let Sangyeon flee out of the office just to beat his non-commital sex partner on an illegal race through the non busy streets of their beloved city– because they didn't even know about that in first place. 

It wasn't until a frantic phone call from his trusted mechanic-sometimes-co-pilot Juyeon that he could make up an excuse and let the over egocentric male alpha and the other less corrosive male alpha discussing where the coffee pot should be placed (now that it's fixed and everyone wants to take a little coffee break every two or three minutes). 

He wonders if they noticed that he ended up watching a piece of his favourite gag show through their heated fight. 

Focus. He was racing against Jacob (not _only_ Jacob, but what's with remembering over six other names when just only one matters?); and now, more than ever, it’s one he absolutely _can’t_ lose. 

He is oddly cozy, feeling the leather of his seat hugging his back, and he hits the accelerator just so the sound wakes him up from his strange, thick feeling slumber. Fuck. He doesn't remember signing up for unresolved (and disguised) hate and deep buried mad feelings. 

But he isn't about to lose this race. Because after Juyeon's frantic call, he collected his key (and all his things were ready long before the discussion took alarming rates), bid a half-assed goodbye and fucking _raced_ home to change his attire and revive his racing car of its one-week beauty sleep. 

His nerves are chewing each other out, he can feel his pulse against his ears, and all he can see is Jacob, prostred right beside him, piercings glinting back at his winking eye– because he thought he should wink, since it seemed to be Jacob's registered trademark and he could fucking rob it.

He wished he could rob him of his shit eating grin, of his bright eyes and the discrepancy of his laugh reverberating after a bitten-back moan. He wished he could, not literally, throw his car against all of it and go back and forth a million times just to make sure that it isn't going to rouse from the dead and chase him up until the last of his days. 

The typical girl stands between two cars, little checkered flag in hand, and with a devilish smile she announces the race is up. 

Sangyeon wins it. 

By a fucking milimeter– but he wins it. If the quantity of juice fucks up his car, he isn't one to blame. He would do everything and a little more to get the sweet taste of victory back on his tongue. And if he's dying to get another taste in his mouth right after he hops off of his car and enters the shitty bar they're celebrating his victory in, no one needs to know. 

"Delighted," Hyunjae comes over the table with two beers and offers one to Sangyeon, choosing to ignore he's already downing a Martini, "every single soul is delighted. Everyone needed to see you winning again to remember the old times." 

Juyeon laughs at that, "Shut up, it was only two times," but instead of sounding like an aid, the gentle tone of his voice seems to be joking too. Sangyeon loves it very openly, and lets him know it by mixing their drinks together, because Juyeon is a little bitch about it. 

" _Hey_!" 

"Hey yourself," a voice says in childlike mischief, suddenly. Sangyeon is fairly acquainted with the vibration of it, but he didn't see him approach. He growls an ugly growl against the recently opened bottle of beer, since he chugged down the rest of his Martini after pouring half of it in Juyeon's glass, "What's the news in this table? Everyone else is just talking about Sangyeon's win like it's a miracle." 

Sangyeon's mood faces a brutal drop. 

Where the fuck is the respect he has earned with this people after several years? 

As if the scowl on his face couldn't get any uglier, Jacob chirps again, seeing that no one was going to feed into that (at least not on his face– he was sure that Hyunjae _was_ slandering in his head right at that moment), "As if this bonanza is going to last until I decide to start winning again." 

He smiles so sweetly that Hyunjae's retort gets a little lost against his lips, because he's too busy staring, "What's with you guys and this competitiveness? Not that I'm complaining- Hot as hell." 

Sangyeon glares at him.

"And it leaves Sangyeon on edge, which is always funny to see."

Juyeon barks a nervous laugh and Sangyeon silently asks the waiter for another beer. When Jacob's smile turns into a grin and seems to split his face into two, he decides to get two more beers. 

The moment when the waiter, oblivious, beautiful with half of his hair in a buzzcut, places the beverages on the table, one in front of each individual, the air is thick and it feels suspended in time. Then, he goes away and Sangyeon's anger thrums against his ribcage, or something like that. There's definitely something against his ribcage making pulsing sounds everytime Jacob's teeth catches his lower lip and he isn't about to say it's his h- 

"I don't really know," he says, after taking too long to answer. And if Sangyeon spared him a look, he would see that the glint in his eyes are hinting anything but the innocence laced in his voice. "But! Sangyeon never mentions his friends when we're _talking_ \- here's my number! We should _all_ hang out sometime," he slips a piece of paper across the table, next to Hyunjae's long fingers and squints at him like a liar would do. 

With that, he goes away, but not before looking back and blinking cutely- and the fucking eyebrow piercing _winks_ at him, and only him, in the exact moment he chooses to look up from the rim of his bottle.

Sangyeon feels a burn on his stomach (it's slowly getting unbearable), and he genuinely doesn't know if it's just the light and expectable post-Jacob stress or he's truly developing gastritis because of him. He instantly regrets asking for so much beer. 

Hyunjae still has that hand slightly covering the piece of paper and Juyeon looks almost a sick yellow under the not really harsh lights. Hyunjae huffs, opening his mouth slightly-

"I don't care. Don't speak." 

"I didn't even say anything," Hyunjae squeaks indignantly, snatching one of the bottles with not much of a second thought.

Sangyeon finishes that one beer and calls it a night. His attire - leather jacket, thick black shirt, tight pants- too stupid. Too warm for races, too according to Jacob's bed wishes to be taken seriously. Neither of them reaches out that night, and Sangyeon can't decide if that's good or bad.

It isn't after one week and a half (yes, he's been counting, because he works at an office and counting it's what he does every single day of the week) that he encounters the beauty sprawled against bed sheets again. His own bed sheets this time, because he hasn't really been racing that much and his weekends are getting narrower and narrower (and his patience littler and tinier, until it's the undermost representative of an emotion), so the outings are diminished into work and work only.

He tries to argue with himself and say that what's happening is in the past and right now it's just a figment of his imagination– but no, it isn’t, because Jacob's voice is very vivid when he quietly complains not for the first time. And it’s concerning that he doesn’t even seem to remember that fatidic moment in the bar where Jacob apparently slid his phone number to Hyunjae out of nowhere. Like, what the fuck does he want with him so suddenly.

"Hey," his hands are closed into fists and he's grabbing the comforter like it's his job (Sangyeon can't blame him, it's a good comforter), "Something going on?" 

He stares back at Jacob with something akin to displicency in his eyes. 

"No." 

He initially refused to let the other _in._ Not literally, but they were texting and Jacob was being an annoying ass and then he proceeded to imply that Sangyeon was the one needy and miss-y and claimed that he would, _yes_ , so benevolently grant his house a flick of his presence. He almost blocked his number for real this time.

" _Just admit you wanna fuck and go,_ " Sangyeon typed back almost angrily, but the warmth taking over his chest slowed down his fingers and he was almost smiling. 

It's how they're there – Sangyeon in his boxers, contemplating his short life while Jacob seems to be waiting patiently. 

He has to reward him for that: the waiting face is ingenuous and doesn't shift until Sangyeon has his mouth all over his body. 

That night, he was thinking about… Changing things a little bit. Because he thinks that Jacob's archness has poured a bit into him by osmosis. 

He travels a knowing hand up and down Jacob's torso, which is still clothed, despite the rest of his body being in display for Sangyeon to savour. 

"I envy you," he puts it simply. 

There's a shiver in Jacob's voice, "Yeah?" 

He flicks a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, so slowly that it might hurt, and hums in response. 

"I envy that you are so, so desperate, but still try and wait the longest," he lowers his head and mouths Jacob's throat very delicately, "and then agree to every single thing I do or ask." 

Jacob is pathetically denying the very assertive sentence, but Sangyeon doesn't let him speak: 

" _Who's_ always the one _expecting_ something from me, hm? Who's the one that practically begs to be fucked every night after a race- or every other ordinary night, cuz they _are_ patient, but only shows it up when they're in bed?" 

Jacob's face is flushed an angry red, and Sangyeon sees the way he opens his mouth to retort for a second time; it's a good trial, but again, he doesn't let him. Because he doesn't want to hear another string of feather-light pokes, and he isn't up to debating stupid matters when the only palbable thing he's got in mind is fucking him. Isn't it what Jacob wants, in the end, always? 

He's thinking with the lowest head. It fits.

Sangyeon shuts him up for good, pressing enough amount of his weight along Jacob's together with a searing kiss, because he's lovely. Jacob whimpers from under him, responding despite the initial denial, the harshness making them both pant too little time into the kissing. It isn't a problem for Sangyeon, who catches his breath briefly and goes back to Jacob's mouth, not going further than licking at his lips and trying to delicately nip at them. He fails. 

Jacob doesn't seem to want to say anything else, so Sangyeon hops off him and lets him breathe before he asks a very specific question. 

He brings one of his hands beside his face, shows him his knuckles and says, "Fingers?" 

He watches as Jacob's eyes lit up (as if he doesn't always prep him before. He's a _moron_ ), and he probably knows that something's up when Sangyeon mimics it. 

"And only them?" 

Jacob's smile falters. He shakes his head, lip forming a little pout. 

In response, Sangyeon nods and his smile grows bigger. Meaner.

"Only them, that is." 

He finds it oddly amusing that he only needed to shut him up twice to get him quiet, but the silence is slowly drowning him in his thoughts again – and now he wonders if it was really a good idea to reel him up like that. 

When they're sweating, Sangyeon's wrist is feeling every kind of pain, and Jacob is beautifully spent, he feels the frustration eating him up. 

Jacob made his hell by simply not wanting to let out _any_ moan, any whimper, any little sound that would grace Sangyeon's waiting ears and lay stored in his head (whether he'd like it or not). He isn't about to admit to a dozing off Jacob that he's absolutely fucking devastated that he could get fingered by _Sangyeon_ and not let out a sound higher than a sigh. Because that was all he did: he hid the pleasure and bit his lip and fucking bruised it because it was his personal quest to make Sangyeon's life a living hell. 

He's thankful that the other is sleeping when he gets on his trembling legs and drags his body to the bathroom. He wets a clean hand towel and cleans Jacob as best as he can, the mess he's made being mainly sprawled against his own belly than the bedsheets. 

Jacob looks unfitting in his bed. He looks like a demon has taken hostage in his house and thought it was okay to steal his bed and sleep on it like there's no other thing he's supposed to do. He grunts at the image laid out before him for a long time, before deciding to cover him up with the comforter Jacob's been clutching for dear life, and leaves the room to do God knows what. 

  
  


His office is closed for a random holiday and he hangs around the house like an unoccupied housewife. He hasn't seen the light of the day for a long time (maybe he's exaggerating, but it does feel like an entire week has passed since he's last walked outside), and it's a call from Juyeon that makes a connection between the outside world and Sangyeon. 

The last time he had contact with said outside world, he has broken the fucking coffee machine (he wouldn't say it was his fault, but practically everyone saw the moment when he lost his damn mind and punched the table where the machine stayed and it jumped to the ground like a fallen angel. He had replaced it later the same day, because he's a man of honour), so let him talk about _not wanting_ to be outside for no good reason. 

After a few worried glances (and more than a few angry ones), Friday came to an end and the weekend stretched into Monday (because of the holiday), and he's tired of it. 

Until, and he's grateful for it, Juyeon's call. 

"I'm saying it's a deserted area, it doesn't matter if it's the middle of the week," Sangyeon can hear the ruckus behind his desperate voice. He would say they're all huddled in one of the hidden garages, "You have to be here. The winner will get to choose one of the cars in the race- and I know you've been eyeing one or two." 

Fucking Juyeon. It hasn't been long since he started to grow tired of his little baby, not only the colors but its design, and what's a better way to get another one if not winning it? And Juyeon knows that – because, apparently, he likes to be observant and feign obliviousness as a weapon. 

Sangyeon respects him for that, but he also wants to beat him useless for the same reason. 

He doesn't know why, but his nerves are worse than they've been his entire life (especially since he’s got started in this damn double life), and he cannot, for the life of him, grasp the ultimate reason for that. Little reasons he has, after all, he works in a damn office, but- Beyond that? There's only uncertainty with a tinge of the sour, disgusting taste of not _knowing._

"I don't know, man… It hasn't been long since the last time we had to deal with the cops, you wanna taste them again?" 

He _listens_ to Juyeon's reddening face behind the statics. 

"Why do you always have to remind me of that _one_ officer-" 

"I, by no means, am going to keep reminding you that you gave yourself so easily to a cop and let them discover one of our biggest garages, Juyeon- What kind of friend do you think I am?" he listens to his own voice and gets flabbergasted by the poison dripping in them. He winces at the same time Juyeon lets out a disapproving gasp. 

"You know what?" he huffs, but Sangyeon knows he's not annoyed (or else he would have hung up), "you _need_ to race. You've been stressing too much and it fucking needs to go away." 

Juyeon is not wrong, he's going to give him that. But little does he know, that Sangyeon's bottled up emotions goes way further than just stress that can be discharged by racing until his legs rot. He's not aware of the blazing hot fire that encounters his ever growing frustration and disappointment (in no one else but himself), and the way they basically rule his life up to the point where he doesn't do anything if it's not raging randomly on a certain point of the day or completely shutting everyone out because he can't _deal_ with his screaming head. 

"I'm in," he says into the boisterous laughs and Juyeon's another exasperated huff. 

"Thank God. Wednesday, eleven, you know where." 

He hangs up before Sangyeon can say anything else. 

Sangyeon's gloves seem to be extra warm that night. He remembers having all of his clothes with him in the office (but he doesn't change there because that would raise even more questions, and the last thing he wants is everyone linking his outburst of last week to a possible involvement with gangs or drug dealers), the small bag full to the brim, and the drive to the farthest garage he knows of is a forty minute full of bumpy roads and little shacks all over the place. The garage stands tall but looks like a standard hangar, old and dusty on the outside. 

Inside it's a different world, but he's too busy eyeing every single human being in there to ogle the bright silver of the walls and the variety of cars. 

Back in the street, he's too busy hearing the uncomfortable thrumming of his head until he is in his car, frantically searching for a glinting piercing in the amberlit roads and against the dark of the gloomy night sky. He finally gives up when one of the girls stands between two cars (his and the one on his right, driven by a person he doesn't care to know). 

The flag looks like a dream when it lowers in slow motion, and the only thing he can think of when he's racing is, _where the hell is that bastard?_

He's not celebrating his win. Everyone is clapping his back wherever he goes, and it only fuels up his need to chuck that jacket away, because the sound of skin slapping against it is annoying. And he's already thoroughly annoyed to even need to keep up with that the way he's trying. When there's little to no mightier force stopping him from undressing completely, Juyeon comes into his camp of vision with a big grin decorating his face. Fortunately, he reads the way Sangyeon absolutely doesn’t let him come near his back and, backing away slightly, doesn’t try to slap it like everyone else. 

"I knew that you needed that! How was it- I mean, there's no need to answer, I saw everything," he's beaming like a child and Sangyeon feels bad for him for a moment, "so long since we've seen you win so easily." 

That's it. He's blowing up this fucking garage with _everyone_ in it. 

Or at least _one_ thing is certainly blowing up – his head. 

He knows what he wants. He lets Juyeon talk a little more before excusing himself to a quieter place. A restroom. Is there a restroom there? 

He walks between the cars, severely affected by the reminder that he needed to choose one of the cars in the last race to claim. If he's being completely honest, no one of them seem to be better than his own, and he's not about to have another car just for the sake of it. He doesn't need to take away one of the guys' entertainment because he feels like a motherfucker. 

Not knowing that, a few girls call him back to where the cars are parked, and judging by the amount of people gathered there, no one had forgotten what's the deal, unlike him. He genuinely doesn't know if they're involved to follow the races or to exclusively watch and wait for the possibly terrible outcome of pseudo-alphas gathered together for the primal need of fighting. He isn't one up to fight, and of course he had to throw some punches and low kicks throughout the years to earn a place of stability there, but it isn't something he does out of entertainment. 

"Okay- okay, now for something that should have been decided on the street-" a guy with bleached blonde hair speaks, and Sangyeon is sure that he isn't older than eighteen. He looks pointedly at Sangyeon, so sure that he could just _do_ that without consequences that Sangyeon is in shock, and doesn't actively react to the jab, "whose car you wanna take tonight?!" 

The screams of the makeshift audience make Sangyeon's eardrums suffer. He looks around and sees that every racer is leaning against their car (a clear display of protectiveness), and they don't look like they can afford another one so easily. Well, one of them does, but he's also terrible with his choices and Sangyeon would prefer to rob his money and buy himself a better car instead of transforming the shitty one the other already has. 

Sangyeon spits on the ground, slightly thankful that the ruckus has driven him away from his thoughts a little bit. 

However, he chants victory too soon. 

The obnoxious glinting of the carefully placed piercings is the first thing he sees. 

Last thing he knows, he's staring right at Jacob and every single emotion that he's bottled up for the past weeks uncap themselves in one savage savage motion - he stands there. 

He just stands there, suddenly (upsetly) reminded of how wrong it felt to watch as tears rolled down Jacob's face right before a pained sob indicated his climax, but as his astonished face morphed into worry, Jacob's trembling body slowly reached up for him – and then, his hands took hold of his shoulders and he leaned in tentatively, so he could let go of Sangyeon right away (without kissing him, but somehow letting him know that he was okay - in a twisted, twisted way). 

It wasn't _wrong_ that he needed to know that Jacob wasn't really in shock or disgusted or feeling violated after he poured half of his anger-filled body into pleasuring him and then proceeded to make him cry for it, _but_ it was… Something else. 

It felt like he cared enough and that Jacob was waiting for it. 

"So! How's it gonna be?" the blondie shouts again. 

Sangyeon diverts his eyes from the absolute demon tearing his life apart and silently hopes that the pause felt longer than it actually was. 

He clears his throat soundly, "as the winner," and the remaining voices speaking die down, "I announce that-" 

Jacob took this chance to shoulder his way into the center of the crowd, where the very Sangyeon stands, and feigned attention, with his eyes glinting their molten chocolate sweetness towards him in a disrespectful way. Sangyeon feels his throat close to choking up but he swallows through it like a champ. Jacob can't affect him in almost every aspect of his life.

 _Almost_ because he hadn't personally appeared, in flesh and bones, at his workplace. Yet. God, he can't even think rationally about it. 

"Announce that- I'm not taking anyone's car tonight," there's a figurative period at the end of his sentence, and everyone around gasps a little. Jacob grins, and he's the only one doing that, "Get better and do better next time." 

He guesses it could be worse. At least he didn't stutter. 

The crowd disperses without needing to be shooed away. Sangyeon is fairly pleased to see the blondie's face turned into a deep scowl – he knows it'll require quite the time to gain his respect like everyone else (even if nowadays he doesn't feel as respected as he once felt), but he's willing to give it a try. 

Now, to more urgent aspects of his life and the win tonight, he has a shit ton of questions. Jacob stays there, where once was near the heart of the crowd they were standing in, and he seems to know that Sangyeon is dying inside to _devour_ him and detach his every truth. 

Everything screams to him that Jacob is far from being honest, but the hardest part is to realize _what_ is true. He doesn’t have a fucking clue, and he can’t move. 

So Jacob does. And Jacob falls perfectly in front of him, swiftly sliding his hands up and up until they find Sangyeon’s nape and rests them there, without saying anything. Growing silence horrifies his rapidly beating heart and he’s afraid that the other will listen to it. By the time everyone leaves the garage to disperse into the streets and bars nearby, he’s trying to accept the fact that Jacob has him easily. It’s scary. 

Then, afraid that he’ll no longer have the pleasure to do that if he so slightly threatens to ruin their shallow, completely-devoid-of-emotion relationship, he gives in and brings their faces together. 

Jacob has other ideas in his mind when, instead of kissing him with everything he’s got (Sangyeon can see his hands trembling and the pressure of them against the fabric of his shirt - he’s _dying_ to connect their lips), he interrupts Sangyeon’s straight line and smudges his objective in one swift, raspy verdict. 

“Fuck me in your car.”

He _purrs_ inside Sangyeon’s ear and gives it little bites, knowing full well that the reactions were all going south. Sangyeon came close to whining, but the impending anger was always there, always hot and troubling, keeping him from showing the side that would absolutely melt under in. He gave Jacob a hard, short shove to detach them. 

“Never thought you’d be an exhibicionist- but I should’ve guessed.” 

Jacob huffs, but it comes off more as a half-assed laugh, “your blinds are darker than the law permits. I think no one would see it.”

“I think _everyone_ would notice a parked bumping car,” he muses out loud, temporarily distracted away from Jacob’s body close to his. They didn’t even do anything and he’s already sweating.

“You’ve become a _prude-_ ” he says, a hint of disgust embroidered in his words. 

“Far from it- I just draw the line at… Exhibicionism.”

“Prude!” his hands hold Sangyeon’s face like he’s some sort of celestial creature. Like he’s somewhat close to heaven for betraying his nature and avoiding voyeurs (putting aside all of the other minor sins - like illegally racing, running away from the police and dribbling the justice one too many times).

Sangyeon swats his hands away but absentmindedly keeps them in his. 

“There’s a modest hotel nearb-”

“I want it to be in your car.”

“Listen- I _can’t_ bang you inside my car where everyone will see and just drive off like nothing happened.”

Jacob rolls his eyes, getting explicitly impatient. 

“ _Everyone_ does that…” he trails off, idly staring at Sangyeon while his eyes were trailed behind them, to the people still mingling even after almost an hour after the last race. No one’s paying attention to them, and he feels the telltale sensation of molten lead in his insides when Jacob’s body keeps sending him shockwaves for doing the bare minimum - like slightly grazing his hand up and down his arm after Sangyeon released his hands, or when the same hand hovers over the zipper of his jeans but doesn’t commit to it. He makes a point off his next sentence by holding his breath, “Besides… I’d be the one fucking you.”

Sangyeon feels himself physically perk up at that, question visible in his eyes, not necessarily against it.

“I wanna ride you. Inside your car. Get us in your car, or,” he snickers, lips frowning in a way that shows his bunny teeth, “I’ll scream.”

He knows he would. Sangyeon isn’t about to challenge him into that, because he _knows_ he would. The sudden madness making his eyes dart everywhere on Sangyeon’s face brings him to command his wobbly legs into the march to Sangyeon’s (relatively small, not really made for those last minute shenanigans, but luckily revested in leather) racing car. He’s glad the walk is not too far and that he parked it rather far from the others, always seeking his privacy away from the judgy (and jealous) eyes. 

Jacob, right now, doesn’t give a fuck that this car is one that won too many races before. He also doesn’t care that himself won against it two times in a row, and that Sangyeon’s heart has a bigger space for it than anything else in his life. 

He just hopps in and when Sangyeon finally sits in the driver’s seat, he starts the car, smashes the ac on and clumsily makes his way onto Sangyeon’s lap. 

In a very far corner of his mind, Sangyeon is profusely thankful that neither of them are that tall, or else the whole ordeal would be too much labor. He hugs Jacob’s middle, so flushly pressed against him that he promptly loses himself when they finally kiss. And it’s a rough kiss, Jacob’s legs having found ground right beside Sangyeon’s forcefully united thighs, and he rises slightly to deepen it, to make it seem like he’s never close enough. It feels like he’s frustrated, the way his lip piercing grazes violently against his more and more.

Sangyeon silently allows him to search and suckle and lave, and for some time it’s the only thing they do. He wonders if this is what it feels like to actually-

When he starts to mold into the leather and hopefully become one with the seat, Jacob’s legs give up and he descends onto Sangyeon’s lap rather harshly. It brings their crotches together and one of them gasps against the other’s mouth. After some time, he looks down and frowns slightly.

“Fuck- how the fuck am I supposed to yank these pants-”

“I thought you did that often?” Sangyeon pants over Jacob’s words, sliding his hands from his hips to his ass, as they should. They try to wiggle their way into the trousers, but apparently he’s on leather again. Sangyeon didn’t even notice. 

“Why leather,” it comes off as a statement. 

Jacob snorts, “wanted to piss you off.”

He’s so innocent to think that an infime thing such as a leather piece of clothing would piss Sangyeon off. He almost retorts but thinks it better. Would it?

“Sit on the passenger seat, unbutton it and push it as far as you can.”

He’s met with a surprising whine (or something near that). He doesn’t know if he grows angry or more excited to hear it. Maybe both. Jacob has a different way of getting into his skin, and he can’t label it as good or bad. He’s just there and it bothers (and hurts).

“But I don’t wanna leave you,” he lies, giving Sangyeon a pointed stare with his head tilted down. 

“I’m this close to leaving you in this car alone and taking a cab to go home.”

After laughing, coming closer and softly sliding his lips against Sangyeon’s throat, he complies, and Sangyeon helps him out of those hellish garments. He comments, “thought you’d be a little more considerate of your baby,” and they both know he’s talking about the car. 

Off goes his jacket and shirt, and then Sangyeon gets shirtless too. In a second, Jacob is on his lap and helps him, but the caging part of his clothing is still there. 

It’s maddening - Jacob now takes advantage of their mostly naked bodies and rolls against him, his dick rubbing against Sangyeon’s belly every now and then. His little gasps stuff the car in a way that’s nearly deafening, and Sangyeon wonders if the ac is truly working, because he feels like he’s having a heatstroke. 

He can’t help but pant when Jacob parts from him just enough so he can work the flyer and the button open (always harshly, impatient and reckless), and he helps by bucking his hips up while Jacob pulls it, together with his briefs. He probably leaves marks all over Sangyeon’s thighs, but Sangyeon doesn’t care; he can’t feel anything aside from the throbbing, growing hardness pressing between Jacob’s cheeks. Suddenly he frowns and Sangyeon mirrors it without thinking.

“I know you keep lube somewhere here-” 

“Glovebox,” he manages out, Jacob’s hand not giving him time to think as it gropes him when Jacob angles his body to search for lube and condoms better. Multitasking is rather sexy, Sangyeon concludes. 

The sound of the cap being opened urges Sangyeon to ask, “You gonna do it?” 

Jacob shrugs, on his way to coat his fingers generously, “it’s faster.” 

He disagrees wholeheartedly, given the position they’re in and the exertion needed for it, so he grabs it from Jacob’s hand and dips three digits in. Jacob stares. 

It’s like he knows that this is going differently from what he’s imagined, but neither can really complain. 

Sangyeon is starting to hate this alien urge to- to take it slow. He grabs it by the neck and drowns it under the waves of arousement coming from the constant that is Jacob’s weight against him. He reaches behind the other’s body and without so much as a second thought, buries two lubricated fingers inside him - and listens attentively as he gasps, feels him arch more against him, his hands clutching the backrest lightly. Working him open should present to him as unexceptional, given the copious amounts of time they did that in the past months- But everything with Jacob is like a new discovery. Of course he complains the same and groans and murmurs bad words like he means it. He stutters his hips when Sangyeon purposefully presses his knuckles against his prostate, but draws them back because it’s not his job to finish him now. 

The third finger makes Jacob initially shrink, but he rethinks and rears up quickly; Sangyeon stops him from moving too much as to seek his own release. He knows he’s desperate at this point, but no way he’ll have him orgasming only from his fingers and then being too spent to ride him properly (now that he’s grown quite fond of the idea). Sangyeon does almost make him reach the stars with how much he’s turning his fingers inside him, but as he deems it enough, he quickly retracts his arm and reaches for his discarded shirt to clean the slick digits. 

Jacob visibly shakes and he’s ready to speak but Sangyeon is faster (and thirstier) and kisses him silent. It takes him too long to find the condom clad in the mess of the passenger seat, but he succeeds eventually. Jacob’s rolling his tongue against his and trying to regain the friction from earlier by glueing himself, skin hot and sweaty, closer to Sangyeon’s chest. He appreciates that he’s capable of pleasuring him without even moving, but he now has another business, and it requires someone to pay attention to his enoughly neglected dick. 

Again, Jacob whines when he has to move from his resting position (he breathes hard and without rhythm, and Sangyeon is briefly amazed), but complies once he sees the condom being cheerfully swayed near his face. 

His sudden lazy stance shifts superhumanly, and when he tears the packet with his teeth, it seems that the beast has awoken again. His fingers are trembling and he stares at Sangyeon through half-lidded eyes. 

“Was about to ask you to take me raw.”

“And I’d never do that,” he says through gritted teeth, Jacob’s hands cradling his cock like it’s a precious prize, a petty pout on his lips, and he shouldn’t feel satisfied at his own objectification - but he doesn’t care. Jacob retrieves the lube from nowhere and wets Sangyeon dutifully, the contact finally making him drown in the sensation. He can feel that Jacob is physically inept from taking too much time to get to it, but he’s _looking_ at Sangyeon and touching him from the base of his cock to the tip and spreading the slickness all over it again and again like he has all the time in the world. He tugs it with a reckless amount of strength and Sangyeon halts, gasping with a mixture of thrill and terror. Jacob actually _laughs_ at him, now just lazily dragging his hand up and down, and Sangyeon catches his breath and waits. Because it’s all he can do. 

Manhandling Jacob is out of cogitation when he’s determined to do something, and right now he seems very willing to make Sangyeon fall apart. He’s not going to, because anger fills him up to the brim when he studies the juxtaposition of Jacob’s behaviour since they’ve entered the damn car. 

He looked ready to give Sangyeon head in front of everyone, that’s how much he seemed desperate, but now- _Now_ , he listens to Sangyeon’s breath hitching and just smiles, sliding the tip of his thumb to the slit of his dick with a purpose. He sinks deeper into the seat and moans a half-curse. 

Whereas his head was away from a coherent thought, a sudden idea strikes Sangyeon’s lust fogged mind and he quickly gets to it. He inwardly laughs at the cleverty and grabs Jacob’s ass with both of his hands, surprising him enough to break his focus and have him stumbling to get his balance back, and Sangyeon enters a mostly dry finger in an almost swift motion- it gets Jacob wincing, taken aback, and now, instead of the seat backrest, he grips Sangyeon’s shoulders and pants. 

“ _Asshole_ ,” he sits back and Sangyeon retrieves his hands, sliding them up until they cross over Jacob’s back and he’s objectively hugging him. He feels compelled to smirk. 

Jacob almost gets to touch their dicks before Sangyeon slaps his hand away and threatens, “where did your defiance from earlier go?” 

Manhandling him now doesn’t pose as so much of an impossible quest for Sangyeon; which he complies with little resistance, seeing that Jacob’s smile started to grow at the question but he doesn’t bother to answer it. Instead, he lets himself be adjusted and wriggles excitedly before sinking against Sangyeon, one hand reaching back to grab his cock.

It takes little time for Sangyeon to be fully inside, but the actual movement is in Jacob's command. And, unfortunately, he seems to be contemplating whether he should just go for it or… 

Or tease. Just like he was made for. 

Sangyeon watches the way he bites his lip and the piercing gets briefly caught by his teeth and the little sound it makes. He's attentive at the way Jacob's tongue soothes whatever discomfort he must've felt. 

The wait is excruciating, warm, painful - it burns from the inside. He physically feels himself being swallowed – it comes with a cost, Jacob knows that, and Jacob is taking advantage of that. In that moment of wait, ragged breaths and the actual time being suspended in the air like the world is waiting for Jacob to achieve his goal, he feels defeated. Doesn't know exactly why; can perfectly describe how Jacob's weight and the lack of motion bundle up and runs down his moral. He feels slightly degraded. It kinda sucks. 

Jacob rises very slowly. 

“Jacob,” he hisses. 

And slowly, too, takes Sangyeon’s hands off of him and closes his fingers against his wrists, up, up so Sangyeon can’t think of anything else aside from the furious, cadenced movement of Jacob’s hips against him. He bores holes into Sangyeon’s own pupils and asks, smiling as sweetly as possible, “what?”

Sangyeon barely listens. He can’t distinguish between Jacob's harsh intakes of breath and his own, and he can’t _see_ \- his eyes roll backwards and he closes them, and Jacob keeps going steady like his thighs are made of steel and sheer determination to end Sangyeon right then and there. 

He doesn’t come closer. He pushes Sangyeon’s encaged wrists against the seat backrest but doesn’t come closer, and he rolls almost in a daze until Sangyeon is able to hear again. Jacob’s sounds get sharper and stuttered in parallel, like he has enough strength to speak but wants to deliver three sentences one over the other. Sangyeon stares at his face, filled with desperation and impossible things, but it gets too much (he feels too much) and he closes his eyes again. 

Despite the pace, heat coils rapidly inside him, almost like a forest fire, and he tries to detangle their hands to _touch_ him like he likes to, but Jacob is relentless. Then, Sangyeon cries from the pressure and from the way Jacob suddenly fastens his pace, and acts more like Sangyeon’s a glorified dildo, and contracts so the paced rise is _painful_. He marvels at the way Sangyeon’s face lights up but wrinkles at the same time, and chokes up a plea. It feels too raspy on his throat, and he swallows thickly. 

When he sees the way Sangyeon is enjoying it too much, he halts to a stop. Post exertion, he finally looks shaky, but it doesn't make him less evil. He moves again. Sangyeon mutters insanities under his breath, choosing to ignore his brain to mouth filter.

Jacob keeps the slow, almost stopping pace, ignoring the pleas without a second thought, but Sangyeon actually doesn’t care. It doesn’t stop him from bucking up to meet his thrusts, and it allows him to look at Jacob again - to see him biting his lip and his thighs shaking, and the way his arms are dutifully stretched to keep Sangyeon from… Doing Sangyeon things. 

He wants to touch him so much it physically hurts - and he’s sure that isn’t from the excruciatingly slow riding. He decides to sit until Sangyeon bottoms out completely, and tries to sink _deeper_ by rolling his hips in a taunting manner. He wiggles and it makes him pant, like he’s _finally_ reached what he wanted. It suddenly makes Sangyeon want to roll them around and fuck him properly, but they don’t have room and Jacob would rather bite his dick off then comply with letting Sangyeon take charge after _he_ decided that _he_ would ride Sangyeon until _he_ couldn’t feel his legs. Straining his wrists doesn’t stir anything in Jacob, who just lifts an eyebrow in challenge. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he pants softly, coming a little closer, “I might bite.” Sangyeon resists the grand urge to roll his eyes but he just groans. Jacob hits their foreheads with a smirk dancing on his lips.

Moving with no purpose, he lets out minute sounds until he eventually decides it's enough and muffles them by kissing every inch of Sangyeon's skin he could reach. Which is worse; suddenly Sangyeon can feel his breath and the vibration of his whines all over him. He bounces and it causes a sharp intake of breath but he doesn't stop.

Sangyeon doesn't know what goes through Jacob's head when he suddenly leaves Sangyeon's wrists to their own accord - in such a strange situation, that it makes him crazily miss the sensation. He tries to look at Jacob, mind and vision clouded over the same thing, when his arms lock around Jacob. Jacob falters. There _is_ something he can't read on the montion, but he was never good at that; specially if it was relating to Jacob. A moan cuts through the air, so low but so audible that Sangyeon is rather pleased when it wakes him up to reality and doesn't let him mingle in the backs of his mind too much.

Sangyeon's hands let go of Jacob's waist and hoists them up to his hair, grabbing two handfuls of it as Jacob gasps. He doesn’t wait for him to understand what he’s doing, so when his head tilts back suddenly and Sangyeon is attacking his mouth rather than kissing it, it’s understandable that he moans abruptly and rolls his hips with more intent. 

From then, Sangyeon is met with wave after wave of undeniable pleasure and he momentarily forgets that he shouldn’t let Jacob take _that_ much advantage of him. 

However. 

However, what coherent thought could cross his mind when he’s being treated so, so well for an infime moment - a break in time, where Jacob’s sounds and his combined and their skin slapping together are the only thing actively present in his brain?

Jacob almost stops for a hot second, then picks up his pace again and Sangyeon feels the unmistakable turmoil of _too much;_ his mind goes blank. Even with the force of all external and internal elements combined, lining up to make him close his eyes and lose himself in these extremely ephemeral moments, he doesn’t. He keeps them open, mouth ajar as well, watching in awe, confusion and quandary as Jacob’s face contorts as if he’s in pain - he gasps and his hands roam relentlessly from his shoulders to the slight dip of his chest and back to his shoulders, gripping them hard as he chases after his release. He never moans Sangyeon’s name out loud; this time, it comes more as a complaint than anything else, but Sangyeon is too busy staring to comprehend the possible implications of this. So he just listens as Jacob babbles a little more, still rocking his hips slowing and sometimes trembling a bit as if the shockwaves don’t stop hitting him. 

But he always feels like he thinks de trop after orgasming. 

Especially when it’s with Jacob (and it hasn’t been anyone else for a while). While he pants and feels like his nerves are a tiny step near completely stopping, something feels off. 

Picking what wouldn’t feel off after fucking Jacob (or Jacob fucking him - _semantics_ ) is an easier work, after the times they’ve been so engrossed in their heated discussions before sex that when Sangyeon tries to pluck a strand of Jacob’s hair back around the shell of his ear in the aftermath feels almost wrong. But after some time, he got used to not understanding where the fuck do they stand in the midst of that strange ordeal. 

Now, Jacob keeps a distance and looks down - presumably to his own mess smearing his and Sangyeon’s torsos, so faint in the precarious light Sangyeon doesn’t make a move to understand what’s happening. 

Then, Jacob produces a sound that’s neither a sigh or a moan, and he all but collapses against Sangyeon’s shoulder, burying his face right on his neck. Jacob is, for all practical purposes, breathing there like he’s utterly tired (Sangyeon knows it isn’t true). 

He nudges his waist and waits for a positive response before speaking - the response is a hum that sends shivers down everywhere, from his neck to his tiptoes. 

“Get off me.” 

Jacob straightens up and flicks a strand of hair off his face, huffing quietly. Sangyeon would’ve probably done that at some point, even with the impending question burning the back of his skull: where do they stand? 

He realizes that no, he isn’t there to answer that - at least not now, when the first and most urgent thing he needs to do is clean himself as much as he can before dropping Jacob at some random place across the city, then going back to his apartment to regret his life decisions once again. The usual.

Jacob gets ready at the sluggiest pace, seeming unaware of Sangyeon’s eagerness. 

“I don’t feel my legs,” he whines, making no effort to launch himself onto the passenger seat or something similar that would please Sangyeon for the time being. 

“Want me to slap them up?” 

He remembers the feeling of impotence while having his wrists encaged (but clearly also having the chance to escape from the grips and not taking it) and, this time, chooses to touch - and he spreads his palms all over Jacob’s thighs because they’re there. His fingers dig into flesh and he looks up at him with the question all over his face, still. 

Jacob snorts but shakes his head, surprisingly with a hint of sincerity written behind the mock laugh. It’s just then that he decides to pull himself out of Sangyeon’s cladded dick, and Sangyeon almost had forgotten that feeling enclosed like that wasn’t normal (and Jacob was probably thinking that the feeling of fullness was something too transient to be experiencing until now). 

He tries not to react but, too soon, Jacob stares at him when his face contorts slightly. It earns him a hearty chuckle, and Sangyeon hates it a little. 

Changing back into his clothes is harder than he thought, and they bicker all the while, but after deciding he wasn’t about to get out of that car until he reached home, it was a silent agreement that they wouldn’t mind feeling a little sticky for a little more. 

The car ride was silent - only interrupted once Jacob felt like listening to the radio and turned it on without asking. He was oddly quiet, but Sangyeon was more than enjoying it (that way, he could get lost in his thoughts without having to answer Jacob's snarky comments or suggestive sentences), so he didn’t pry. 

  
  


It’s another competitive rush of activities that keep Hyunjae apparently very awake at work, a couple of weeks after the last race and the shenanigans that were born with it. 

"Nerves of steel, I'd say, but they also manage to _melt_ -" 

Sangyeon is nursing a tiny cup of coffee, barely a whole gulp, and counting until three inside his head. His breathing is quite levelled for someone who's barely holding up since eight am. 

"-when he's _in love_. Have you seen this guy in love?" 

A wave of murmurs rise up from all the stations and he doesn't dare to look up. He's been confused by Hyunjae countless times before, but this is new. This is… Uncomfortable. 

"I know, I know- sounds rather impossible. But there _is_ someone-" 

"Hyunjae." 

He's always thought that Hyunjae acts like he's in a romcom. And there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes. 

He dives into his innermost desires and, usually, includes everyone in them, like they're part of his little show. It didn't harm him until now. 

"Hyunjae, what are you doing?" 

"Oh, nothing." 

This didn't look like "nothing". And it started quite out of nowhere, to be frank. They were all looking through the reports for the past week, as they do pretty much every weekend, and suddenly Sangyeon's love life was interesting enough to stir life in those poor, bland bunch of men. It was unharmful, but going from noticing he never ever brought someone to their family friendly gatherings to how, despite not having an apparent established partner, he always seemed to have _signs_ of someone who had them, it quickly turned dangerous. And that, of course, was fueled uniquely and exclusively by Hyunjae.

Deciding he's had enough, and still not daring to look up to anyone in the face, he gently grabbed Hyunjae by the arm, dragged him to the nearest bathroom and started _thinking_. What could have possibly happened? 

"Speak up." 

Hyunjae purses his lip in thought, but doesn't say anything. 

"Hyunjae, I'm not going to play with you. You say what you have to say and we go back to work." 

God, he felt a headache coming. 

"I literally have nothing to say. You can interpret the way you want, but I'm just a spectator." 

Sangyeon halts. 

The concept of spectator brings along the idea of a show of sorts. It makes the skin of his arms crawl in horror.

Hyunjae always has this- this aura around his ever loud body that seems to be leaking excitement at least fifteen hours of the day. And it means he's going to mind his business, his friends' business, and possibly his friends' parents' business too if he's given the opportunity. Sangyeon tries (and fails) to keep him from intervening, eavesdropping or just looking at his general direction every single day of life since they've become friends (or something akin to that – street racers also had a sense of community, family and everything that comes with that). 

Hyunjae is not exactly a racer. 

"Do you enjoy watching it?" he asks, more to keep something going than to actually engage in this guy's crazy hijinks. 

He frowns lightly and answers, "No." 

It's Sangyeon's turn to frown. 

"Why not?" 

"I guess you're not happy."

He has never got to see Hyunjae's concerned gaze upon himself - it was always trained towards the people he pitied enough to care if they were actually hurting themselves whilst trying to do something stupid (more often than not, to prove themselves worth of other people's attention) -, but it was now the very thing pinning him on the ground. 

"I knew you would make this seem like a therapy session," he huffed, mildly annoyed but much more intrigued, "Get back to work." 

Hyunjae visibly deflates, but still prods, "jokes on you, we were almost done anyways." 

After a few seconds of silence that Sangyeon didn't think he would be able to fill, Hyunjae spoke again. This time, with a hint of _something_ in his voice that Sangyeon didn't like one bit. 

"I'd be immensely grateful if you considered me a big friend and told me about things. Like, we'd be like two highschool girls talking about our deepest desires, our crushes, and the guy you've been banging for _months_ now-" 

"Enough!" 

  
  


Loud music filled the honestly too cramped space, but Sangyeon pays it no mind as he bumps his way to the table full of beverages. He takes a moment to notice the actual diversity of drinks, reaching for a soda can inside the box and opening it right away. Perhaps he doubted the capacity of his friends to throw actual good parties and be able to do it without bringing unwanted attention upon them - they were away from the usual hotspots, away from their garages, away from the streets. 

Sangyeon walks around and notices that most of the parties thrown by them aren’t filled with people dancing or grinding on each other, though it’s possible to see couples doing that here and there. He doesn’t know exactly, but he often finds himself mingling for longer than he intends to. He isn’t a party person, nor someone to stay up too late just to get a couple of drinks and wait hopefully to get wasted fast, so it’s sort of surprising even for his friends (that are nowhere to be seen, he notices). 

It wasn’t always like that, of course. Back when he couldn’t hold his alcohol very well and thought that to enjoy himself in a party he should down every single can of beer (or worse) people handed him, it was harder not to engage in… party skullduggeries. 

He would've been able to say he was feeling quite light. He would- because for two weeks now, there was no sight of Jacob in the last two racings (three, if the whole car sex fiasco was counted); he would, because aside from that, he managed to keep Hyunjae from indulging their coworkers into unproductive behaviour; he should. 

But, as everything in his life lately, he _isn't_ , and it's mainly Jacob's fault. It revolves around him, nolens volens. It _shouldn't_. 

He starts unconsciously gripping his can until something- or better, _someone_ jumps into his line of vision. 

" _Buddy_ ," says Juyeon. Though it's strange and out of place seeing him so wasted at a party that didn't even begin yet. Sangyeon tsks softly and holds him by the wrist. "I saw-" he hiccups, "Jacob".

Oh, so he's here after all. Not surprising, but also not welcomed. 

"Where. So I never walk past-" 

"Too late." 

Sangyeon feels his eyes go comically wide and he has to suppress an exclamation as soon as his body acts on its own accords and turns itself to the source of voice.

To the untrained eyes, Jacob wouldn’t really pose as that much of a threatening person. Despite all his obvious efforts to look minimally menacing (black hair slicked back, piercings all over, leather, leather, leather), there’s still a hint of unmitigated innocence in the way his big eyes glint and he purses his lips unconsciously. 

“Were you looking for me?” he asks, blinking slowly. Sangyeon chokes slightly, but says nothing. 

“Yes, Sangyeon,” Juyeon makes an effort to sound level-headed, but fails quite seriously, “were you looking for him?” 

Then, after no response from either of them, he starts to muse out loud:

“Why wouldn’t he, right? W-Why wouldn’t he… Jacob is so, so nice-” another hiccup, “Truly nice.”

Sangyeon frowns. Something feels wrong and he can’t exactly pinpoint it, but when he’s about to start inquiring, Juyeon points to the general direction of the tiny balcony where a dangerous amount of people is reunited and leaves. 

He guesses he should stop worrying. It’s not like he hadn’t seen the other like that ever (getting shitfaced, hiccuping, socializing); it’s just not really often. He feels the uneasiness die down a bit before he remembers that Jacob is still right there facing him, silently, and that the amount of people gathering by the walls and the furniture that was meticulously dragged away is growing exponentially. 

It’s a mystery where he is - there was a time when he knew all of their houses and it was before the new generation of racers overcame the old ones, and everything felt too melancholic now. For someone who didn’t like to dwell on feelings of that nature, he is getting drowned into them more often than not. 

And as if to be of his service, a loud, cheery voice talks through a mike, very clearly: “Imma show you how to party!”, and Sangyeon knew immediately who it was. 

This guy was like a tiny version of a very consciously annoying type of man. But he wasn‘t a man yet - he was just a kid, and for being a kid, everyone clapped around and resumed their various types of drinking games, and grinding slash dancing on the makeshift dance floor. Jacob is so quiet beside him that he managed to forget about his existence a second time. 

It isn’t until a very sultry, extremely suggestive song comes on that he finally snaps into his apparently favorite persona and slips into Sangyeon’s personal space. He would never understand how much a person would mould themselves into certain caricatures of their true selves just to… Play. 

Oh, but did he like to go along with it. 

They don’t even exchange words and Jacob is already chuckling. He is plotting, clearly, eyes fixed on the swell of Sangyeon’s eyebags, his pupils, back and forth, and then his mouth. 

Their last encounter didn't really end up well - it wasn't like they would have purely, positive outcomes from any of them, truly.

Sangyeon just watches as he takes a tentative step further away and just… Sway his hips with the beat of the song. He doesn’t even know the lyrics, but it seems like he knows all the right times to snap a little and to go down a little and to step closer again. And he knows how to cradle Sangyeon’s nape and knows how to bewitch him into leaning into his space until they’re mere centimeters away from kissing each other. 

Sangyeon feels like he has a lot of breath to take and too little time to do that - Jacob turns around so fast and so swiftly that last thing he knows, there’s grinding and there’s the climax of the song and _then_ Jacob sings the lyrics like he’d known them all along. 

It _does_ take the people’s attention to them, for a moment. Does Sangyeon care about that? 

A little. Should he, when at least eighty percent of his brain is just cacophony of the different kinds of way he can call Jacob’s stupid name right now? 

Definitely, no.

At the same time Sangyeon’s hands finally take action and slide across Jacob’s frame, tantalizing and slow, almost like he has all that control over himself, Jacob throws his head against Sangyeon’s shoulder. 

It’s a little corny how he _knows_ Jacob will for sure start mouthing at his neck lest he imagines it, but he finds out he couldn’t really care. He takes a different route with his hands and makes them touch the supple skin of Jacob’s belly, so soft that he fervently wishes the guy never truly gets all sturdy and firm like him, as selfish as it sounds. 

Following that movement, there’s this sound that leaves Jacob’s mouth that makes Sangyeon want to be anywhere but there. Anywhere but in this discrete house, somewhere he’s never been before. He doesn’t want to be there because then, _then,_ people will have to look at him crumbling down into a mass of nonsense, and they’ll see what’s - _who’s_ \- caused it. 

Jacob rolls his hips so slowly but so surely that it doesn’t even feel like he’s trying hard - it feels like it’s natural for him and he’s only showing it to Sangyeon out of… Compassion. Sangyeon exhales shakily; it’s a moan. 

He hides his lower face against the skin of Jacob’s neck, feeling it soaken up with sweat, and he swears he can feel Jacob's pulse on his lips. 

Looking up without ungluing his mouth from the other, he’s suddenly so glad that it’s dark enough to ignore them there. Also, that’s not like anyone is truly interested about another horny couple in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. 

They’re just one of the many. 

They’re no ones, and for Sangyeon, they’re the only thing at the same time. 

It’s the realisation that makes him forcefully pull away from the dancing machine, a sweaty, glittering mess in front of him. 

Jacob turns around. Sangyeon can’t describe if his face shows annoyance or worry at all; he just asks, “what?”, in that way of his. 

Sangyeon has no response, so he doesn’t even try to. Jacob gets closer again. There's cheerfulness and something more glinting in his eyes, but the world is blue, green, red and yellow, and Sangyeon can't see perfectly. 

“I’ve noticed you haven’t been drinking. Let’s do just that,” and he takes Sangyeon’s hand and drags him to the table and, this time, he doesn’t look at all the types of beverages - he just looks at the way Jacob pops two cans of beer open, shoves one of them on Sangyeon’s subconsciously waiting hand and downs the other. 

He _had_ been drinking. Just not enough to indulge Jacob's behaviour without thinking about it first. 

Sangyeon looks at the way his face relaxes (probably because he was thirsty as hell), then it contorts into something funny. He repeats the process a few times until Sangyeon is hypnotized by his adam’s apple bobbing and the beer in his hand is untouched. 

“This tastes like shit,” he announces. Eyeing the one that hasn’t even come near Sangyeon’s lips, Jacob says, “Drink it.”

Sangyeon drinks it. 

  
  


Carrying someone home isn't something Sangyeon is used to. Carrying someone's drunk ass to _his_ home - Sangyeon, surprisingly, has never done that before. Which is kind of strange, he must admit, since he's been into a serious amount of situations that required him sleep at other people's houses and, sometimes, not really often, people staying at his. 

But he didn't have to carry them after paying for the taxi - they didn't whine as much, or stumbled upon their own feet like Jacob did. 

After playing a drinking game alone, Jacob thought he had successfully made Sangyeon as drunk as him. To his dismay, Sangyeon was only on his second beer when the other had tasted twenty-five percent of the alcohol present in that room. 

It's an understatement to say that he's wasted, and that Sangyeon is graced by the sight of it. 

Jacob had never been in this state before. When at parties, Sangyeon's used to seeing him tease, tease and tease, until they're stumbling into a random room and getting their clothes off with enough consciousness that one can deny the other if they want to. 

Sangyeon disposes Jacob by his couch and lets him be. 

Jacob is never the one to lose himself to the easy high of alcohol, because it disturbs his main goal. Sangyeon is aware of that. 

He currently doesn't know what to do. 

Jacob has always a plan to conquer his goals - not that Sangyeon knows much of his life aside from being his personal bother since… 

Pretty much since the beginning. It was only a matter of time that they would engage in such activities, as Jacob had always something to say, a jab here and there, and Sangyeon caught himself boiling in anger one too many times. 

The anger, then, turned into something not less brute than it had once been, but it was concealed with a dab of yearning - an itch that increased each time they had an encounter. 

He couldn't tell the details of it if someone asked him. He wouldn't know what to say, seeing that he was victim of such scheming that, in little time (probably less than five months, if he correctly recalls), his life was parted into two ends: one without Jacob, and one with him. 

Technically. 

Now, Jacob stirs on the couch. Sangyeon had already changed into lighter clothes after the fastest shower he could take, and propped a glass of water on the little coffee table for practical purposes. He couldn't exactly give Jacob water when they were still at the party, so he would try to make up for this now. 

"Where have you brought me," he asks, sounding like his tongue weighs tons. 

"To your last stop before Hell," Sangyeon grunts, hyper aware of the way the light had changed since they arrived. It's already morning. "It's my apartment." 

Jacob had been there at least a hundred times before; he should probably understand that Sangyeon's white ceiling is like any other white ceiling, but it's his. 

Jacob yawns. He stretches his arms lazily, just like a cat would do, and Sangyeon hastily adds another topic to his unorganized list of exasperating facts about him. 

The way his hair only gets more messy as he deems the couch his own place, makes Sangyeon remember that he used to style his hair slicked back - it brought on him a different approach, and he knew that. It wasn’t usually this carefree and disheveled. 

Sangyeon is able to see how soft it looks, not quite as black as he thought it was, because he isn’t good with those things. 

He notices Jacob staring. 

"Why am I here?" he asks, and there's the faintest hint of annoyance in his voice that Sangyeon clings to, pathetically. 

"I don't know if shoving you alone in a taxi would've been a good idea," he answers, shrugging stiffly. 

Jacob only grunts. 

From Sangyeon's point of view, he seems more tired than wasted. Drunk Jacob is way more energetic and enthusiastic about annoying the life out of him. 

"You care?" 

Jacob raises one eyebrow. 

"I'm not a monster- I've always cared," he murmurs. "I know you're not used to staying in until morning but it's just for today." 

Oh, damn. That sounded more emotional than he intended to. If Jacob is truly out of it, he'll let it pass. 

Which is actually very sad, because it seemed like a good chance to talk - a thing that he'd been avoiding for- forever, perhaps. He'd never be ready for such. 

"...Yeah," there's a sluggish tug in his voice, "Sure." 

Sangyeon hums. He offers his arm. 

"You need a shower." 

Jacob is reeking of alcohol; he knows that. That's why he only snorts and lazily reaches out, and lets himself get pulled up by a very willing Sangyeon (who's tired, both physically and mentally, and now just wants to stop overthinking about this night). 

When Jacob is trusted alone in the shower (because he definitely knows his way around) and the morning birds get louder than they were thirty minutes ago, Sangyeon stresses about sleeping arrangements, seated very nervously in his bed. 

Sure, he'd have no problem sleeping on his couch, as he was very used to doing that when in bad nights. He has no TV in his bedroom and sometimes just turning it on helps him forget a bunch of stupid things. 

But- _but_ , Jacob was another thing. He was a terribly extended one night stand that stretched itself impossibly into a situation where Jacob wasn't exclusive to him but Sangyeon was exclusive to Jacob. And worse: the problematic only ringed in his mind alone. He knows that Jacob doesn't lose nights of sleep thinking about that infime inconvenient convenience. 

That's why Sangyeon wouldn't trust Jacob all by himself inside his bedroom. He doesn't _know_ him at all. 

As if summoned by thought, Jacob calls him from the bathroom, his voice muffled and small. 

"Help," he says as soon as Sangyeon politely knocks on the door, "I didn't lock it. And I can't get up." 

Sangyeon should know that nothing in the world would better prepare him for that. He is still surprised and does not need to hide this - he isn't about to act like Jacob in his clothes doesn't bother him. 

There was never a moment for that. Jacob would wake up and mess up with him, try to lull him into another round before decisively flying out of his apartment before the newspaper guy started his shift. There _was_ a hint of delicacy in the way he said his good-byes sometimes, with the tip of his finger flicking Sangyeon's nose, which always earned him a sleepy grunt. 

There was never waking up together and awkwardly picking up stray clothes only to be rewarded with spare ones. Sangyeon had never seen Jacob sneak out with a stolen hoodie. 

It was always his jet-black leather, silk and hidden lace. 

Right now, Jacob is set on the capped toilet seat, impossibly scattered and half asleep. He has a towel around his head, and his face is tainted pink by the warm water. The humidity of the room is giving away his stray activities (using the hot water like he was the one paying the bills). 

And Sangyeon's pajamas look great on him. Neat. The color grey is nothing special, after all. 

But the fabric is, and Sangyeon is feeling very close to losing his sense of reality when he notices the way Jacob's hands are completely engulfed by the sleeves (they do that to him too, but he often forgets about this piece of clothing and is so used to roll them up when he does, that the reality is rather shocking) when he raises his hand just like he's done earlier. 

Sangyeon's willingness starts to wear out very much like rapid fire. 

Jacob wraps his covered hand around Sangyeon's forearm and is promptly yanked out of the bathroom to the hallway. There, he halts to a sudden stop, because he still doesn't know if he's going to let Jacob sleep on his bed, alone. 

And maybe his head is starting to get slower as he's turning older and the amount of sleep he's possibly going to get is not enough, but he decidedly takes the remaining steps closer to the bedroom and leads Jacob to one side of the bed. 

It's not at all surprising that Jacob takes it without a hint of doubt. His body collides with the mattress with a huff and it takes seconds for him to make himself comfortable in the bed he knows for a lot of other stuff. 

Sangyeon can't really recall peaceful bed-sharing. 

Contradicting Jacob's easiness, Sangyeon spends perhaps a whole minute just standing there. He's evaluating, contemplating- staring. 

He studies the glinting studs on Jacob's eyebrow and the relief of not seeing the one in his mouth, despite it being there. He scoffs at the towel still firmly draped around his head and stops himself from reaching for it for a mere second to appraise the soft material of the pajamas against Jacob's complexion. 

Then, he carefully unwraps the towel, discards it to his chair and walks very slowly to the other side of the bed. 

His heart almost drops to his feet when he notices Jacob staring. 

"I know I've most probably done that... some time in the past but don't steal the comforter, pretty please." 

He doesn't know why, but the very image of Jacob gripping that exactly comforter in a dramatically different situation makes a bubble of laughter bother him inside. It's so distracting that he barely sees Jacob making a little charm by blinking his eyes as fast as his delayed brain can manage.

He lets it out as a snort. 

"Sure. If _you_ do that again, you'll be sleeping on the couch." 

Sangyeon places a knee on the mattress painfully slowly, like it isn't his own. 

"Why am I not there, anyways?" 

"It's disrespectful." 

It's Jacob's turn to snort. He almost doesn't care that he's about to _just_ sleep with that guy for the way the conversation sometimes flows between them. Sometimes. 

"Oh," he says, obnoxiously getting comfortable against the pillow, "I didn't know you were so keen to the rules." 

Sangyeon lies down with a sigh. He's not awake enough to get annoyed at the obvious jab.

"I'm not, I just have morals." 

It's almost completely day now. Sangyeon knows that because he didn't close all the blinds to the end and there's faint yellow light trespassing the glass. On a normal night, by that time the only trace of Jacob left would be his fragrance on the sheets. He used to smell… Heavenly. Right now, he's in a weird mix of Sangyeon's body wash, toothpaste and the faintest hint of alcohol. 

"Kindness to visitors is a moral you hold that high?" he giggles.

Sangyeon frowns, both hands intertwined above his chest, staring at the ceiling. 

"Yes." 

Jacob wriggles closer. Sangyeon is disturbed by the sound of ruffling blankets and at the way he's able to know what kind of expression Jacob's making even without looking at him. 

"Sangyeon," he says, not even two minutes after Sangyeon tries to manage his breath. 

He hums in acknowledgement. 

"Kind enough to hold said visitors?" 

Sangyeon _knows_ it was supposed to sound witty, funny, daring. It's not how it happens, though, as Jacob's voice turns slurred, raspy, and in the end he yawns widely. 

Sangyeon stays silent, but now he feels that he's closing his eyes with too much force and there's no rest for the ones who ignore Jacob. And Jacob, as always, seems to know that quite well. 

"Sangyeon," he drags the 'o' annoyingly. There's a sentiment of betrayal that pulls him down fast, so fast that he feels like his bed is literally crashing down, because in the back of his mind screams a voice that says he has, in fact, liked it very much. 

The sound he makes is more painful than as in second acknowledgement. 

Jacob goes on, "you hold me all the time. And now I'm cold." 

"There's a brief difference between the way it’s executed," he chokes out, still not looking. 

"There's _no_ fucking difference," the huff is felt more than heard. Sangyeon gulps. "Come on…" 

Why should he try to resist? Is there really a reason for resistance? 

He briefly calculates that no, there's not. 

"C'mon, if you wake up hard, I" a yawn, then another breathy giggle, "...can take care of that just fine-" 

Sangyeon rolls from his designated place and throws an arm across Jacob's middle, seeing that he was lying on his side. He doesn't know if sleeping face-to-face is better or worse than spooning, but if it was to evade Jacob's words from coming true, he has to make fast decisions. 

With his eyes open, he sees the way Jacob giggles more with his body than with his voice, and says nothing as he comes closer and tucks himself under Sangyeon's chin. 

Sangyeon is conflicted. 

Why is even the way he sleeps so incomprehensibly contradictory? He is sure his head is about to explode. If he manages to wake up later, then it's enough reason to call his dad and thank God for allowing him the miracle of life. 

Jacob hums contentedly. 

What the fuck. 

Sangyeon looks down, panicked.

It is possible that there's still a worrisome quantity of alcohol in his system, but- 

Sangyeon's deep sigh and tawdry exhale make Jacob's hair fly away from his forehead and it prompts a quick whine. 

"Sleep," he demands. 

Sangyeon tries to hum back, disturbed, not at all trusting words at this moment. 

It's everything he's been wanting for several weeks. There are moments of painful closure when he's so certain of it that he has, more than once, almost ended everything. Followed the rational voice in his head saying that anyone willing to try the same would be better than a player; a complete stranger. But at the same time, his most wild and crazy and passionate voice blared that Jacob had to be the one - it was with him that he had fantasized it over and over again, caught up in a loop of impossible feelings and the more impossible chance of getting acknowledgement for them. 

Jacob looks peaceful because it means nothing, right? He's so envious that the other can simply have no strings attached and absentmindedly enjoy the embrace of another person without the plague of those unnecessary thoughts. 

He sighs again. 

Jacob interferes, mildly annoyed and already half asleep, "if I'm awake before noon I'll beat the shit outta you." 

He shouldn't really act surprised for staring at the opposite wall for the next three hours, Jacob snoring lightly in his arms as if he's used to doing it specifically to Sangyeon, body lax and expression free of worry. 

  
  


Physically, he feels prepared for yet another week of work. Despite now having to double-check every time someone ever so slightly raises their voices and his name is heard, everything is fucking _fine_. 

Just not when Hyunjae barges in his booth like lightning and he's grinning like a fool - a very confused fool. 

"Care to share?", is the first and only thing he says for a while. 

Sangyeon cracks his knuckles patiently, looking up very slowly. 

"What did he say to you." 

Hyunjae squeaks, but it somewhat sounds restrained and polite, "Oh, Juyeon? Nothing, really. He said he just remembers you carrying a very drunk Jacob to a cab," the nonchalant tone in his voice is completely gone, "then _entering it_ too." 

Sangyeon sighs. Then, he grunts. 

Hyunjae doesn't _need_ to do that, if he claims to be so damn smart. Either they fucked all night or Jacob got nursed. 

And cuddled. All morning. And then Jacob sucked Sangyeon's dick but that's besides the point. 

Hyunjae, the mastermind, the big-brained, the fucking genius- he knows that Sangyeon is absolutely against having sex with a drunk person. Anything past frenzy kisses are prohibited territory, even when he's horny as hell. 

_Connect the dots_ , Sangyeon begs in his head. _Say that you've connected them_. 

"It can be that you left him in his house and then got to yours?", Hyunjae tentatively says, after a bit of silence. 

It could be. That would be the safest thing to do if Sangyeon is so adamant about his morals. And he would most definitely do that, if he could. The wave of wanting to congratulate Hyunjae for ratiocinating fast gets engulfed by another that urges to say that he, in fact, doesn't know where Jacob lives. 

So he lies. 

"Yes." 

Hyunjae frowns but deems the conversation ended right there. Which is unusual, but Sangyeon will be the last person to pry. Instead, he goes on a tangent about the upcoming races (and for this topic he finally tones down, ducks his head and beams slightly when commenting about the juniors). 

Sangyeon truly misses the feeling of completely belonging, but at the same time, he feels too old too. He knows he's not - neither of them are, even if he's the actual senior between his closest friends. Aside from the fact that Hyunjae hardly gets his hands on the steering wheel, the three of them used to be more absorbed by the parallel reality - now, he uses it as exhaust pipe, a way to burn the pent up energy and alleviate the stress of having to deal with a certain someone’s bullshit. 

“I may be out of the loop lately,” he says quietly, after Hyunjae's done with all of his storytelling, “but how’s everyone for a quick gathering this weekend?” 

Hyunjae’s eyes light up impossibly. 

  
  


For the most part of the week, Sangyeon has been reviewing the items of his car and the things he’d have to change if he wanted to keep accepting dares. Not that accepting dares were his favourite - he usually just raced and he did that as a way of proving himself for himself only. But as a good dare appears and he doesn’t have anything to lose… 

Well. Tonight he is racing to win. 

And his car is on the bet. 

However, despite having all those very important and aggressively urgent things to think about, his head is caught up in the events of last weekend; they all seem very lively and he’s about to try and snap his head open with a hammer. 

Together with the thrill of adrenaline that only racing could cause him, there’s this prickling feeling of being stared at that he knows for sure that comes from all the other racers eyeing his car up and down. 

And, also, a very specific spectator that stands right beside the starting line. 

Sangyeon feels a nervous thrum all over his body that resonates perfectly with the weather - tonight’s forecast promised the sky throwing a tantrum. He was able to hear the distant roars of thunder coming closer to his destination, the clouds gathering into chaotic greys and browns. He thinks he’s too shaky by the thrill of the road rather than by the menace that is racing in the rain, and they can’t and won’t cancel now, so he takes a deep breath and looks to his left side. 

Jacob is there, wearing a raincoat over his usual attire. It’s not really funny how everyone else seems to pale in comparison, even when he’s not purposefully drawing Sangyeon’s attention to him by staring into his soul and smirking very lightly. 

Sangyeon likes to think that he knew what he was doing when he first reached out to Jacob - not intentionally, because if judging from the way Jacob seemed very much interested in another person that moment, he would never -; the minute Jacob had let go of that guy’s neck and looked over, appraising him from head to toe, was the minute that he said _this guy looks like trouble_ . And he _was_ planning to just compliment him on his skills, as a newcomer on his first race after being accepted in the group, but Jacob seemed to have other thoughts in head as he just laughed and asked, _“That’s lovely. Are you alone?”_

_There was no reason to lie, so he shrugged, nodding._

_Apparently forgetting about the noticeable presence of the other man near them, Jacob walked over and offered his hand._

_“You’ve raced expertly tonight,” he said with a smile, “I’m looking forward to seeing more.”_

_Sangyeon had been briefly confused as if he was flirting or just stating. After all, he was used to people doing both when they gathered in a pub or someone’s house. Seeming interested, Sangyeon raised his eyebrows._

_The rest of the night was only drinking and dancing briefly, and Jacob had once made an attempt at coming closer, too close, where Sangyeon was able to distinguish his smell of perfume, sweat and leather from everyone else’s._

_For that brief moment, he thought he had the upper hand when his arms hooked around Jacob’s hips and he spoke sweetly into his ear, “You’ll have to work harder for that.”_

God, does he regret it. 

Gripping the steering wheel with more rage than necessary, Sangyeon’s peripheral vision catches sight of the girl who usually lowers the checkered flag, and it’s actually the thing that makes him snap up to reality, as he notices how he can’t really listen to anything aside from his madly beating heart. 

Blame it on the weather, he has never felt this nervous before a race once in his life. Maybe jittery, maybe incredibly horny and mad for it to end quickly so he could release all of it into his lovely _companion -_ but never raw, fucked up anxiety. 

The girl lowers the flag and it’s in slow motion. He only notices he’s already running when a car zooms by his right flank and he curses through his breath. 

For a brief second, it seems like there’s too many cars on the street, and the light rain makes it impossible to focus. But Sangyeon goes through it as best as he can. 

And after uncountable ages of making turns so dangerous he really was starting to think about what he should expect from the after-life, he eyes the end of the circuit. There are three cars around him - no one in front of him. The thrill of victory starts to pulse through his veins, but he doesn’t grant himself the pleasure of laughing. 

Not yet. 

The rain picks up, as if challenging him, challenging _them_ , and he sees when at least two of the competitors briefly lose control of their cars because of the slippery roads. 

He’ll have to have a talk with whoever allowed them to go on with this madness. 

As if sensing the way he’s lacking attention, one the guys get closer to him - it’s almost ending. Come on. 

He doesn’t want to call on his tricks now, but it seems as the only-

A bright commotion tears his eyes off the road to look alarmed at the sky, and the car by his side goes completely adrift. And as he, instead of abusing the accelerator with renewed energy, hits the brakes with pure _terror,_ it seems like it's enough to avoid a collision, but he miscalculates a little - he goes bumper first onto the passenger side of the car that is slightly smaller than his, clearly one of the juniors, and pushes it mercilessly all the way down to the finish line. His head doesn’t get too much time to understand that he most probably got whiplashed, the force of the impact too much to remain still, even with the safety belt.

Then, a loud as fuck thunder rips off his ears and he can’t think. 

All he can see is smoke, rain and the light of his headlights, and for a moment he’s glad that he’s alive. 

But, yeah. First accident after years of almost never getting anything further than light scratches. He’s… Rightfully terrified. And a little dumbfounded. 

He stays petrified as the rain thickens, falling like a white sheet, and the racers and spectators were either delighted by the sudden shower or running for shelter somewhere else. Sangyeon can only stare, forcibly breathing hard and deep in order to think clearly. He got into an accident. With a junior, nonetheless. He looks up from the panel and searches for a familiar face near the beaten car, but it's fruitless. 

After some minutes, he checks if everything is truly alright - he carefully rolls his neck and shakes his legs, but they're stiff -, and hops out of the car and hears all kinds of sounds; whistles, shouts, a _siren_ \- Jacob’s voice. Feels all kinds of things, too, like the frosty rain seeping into his clothes and the way Jacob says his name.

“Sangyeon.” 

There’s too many things to think about. He needs to check his car. He needs to check the guy who’s got the worst- and _fuck_ , it’s a junior -; he needs to get out of here because there’s a siren- Has one of them called the ambulance? Is it the police in disguise? _What the hell is happening?_

And there’s Jacob, suddenly right in front of him, probably judging the way he absolutely can’t grasp the reality or what to do next. 

He raises his head to look at him, and is a little taken aback on how close he looks from having a panic attack. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Jacob had clearly given up on his raincoat, for as it’s nowhere to be seen. He is soaked in rain, his hair is overgrown and falling into his eyes, and his clothes are clinging to his body uncomfortably, as it seems. 

Sangyeon is still trying to comprehend the question when the flagger shouts, “we have decided the winner!”

That’s when Sangyeon looks around and notices the junior out of his car, inside of an ambulance that was not blaring red lights nor that annoying siren. Connections. The boy seemed fine but a little frightened - and it’s the same one of his previous race _and_ the party, now looking a lot less smug -, and everyone else gathering around like they always do. Juyeon is not there and Hyunjae had to be somewhere else, despite gassing him up for the entire week like he would be there to see him win, and for a moment he wishes they were there for moral support.

But he didn't win, because the brat’s car was literally pushed through the finish line and Sangyeon ended up in second. 

He hadn't won, he lost his car in a stupid bet, and yet, his head can't seem to wrap around all those facts. 

Jacob now grips both of his arms, and when he has Sangyeon’s attention, he asks again, “What the fuck. Was that.”

For all the noise everyone else is making, he hears it quite clearly. And he’s able to notice the very minute tremble in the other’s voice as the grip in his arms get impossibly harder. 

“I don’t know, Jacob,” and he doesn’t. And he doesn't think that Jacob, of all people, _needs_ to know.

He takes a breath and a quick moment to relish on the notion that Jacob, whom he knows for months, never presented him with expression and energy so deviant from his usual frisky stares and turned-on actions. He remembers, also, again, that he _doesn’t_ know Jacob all that well. 

And he doesn’t know why Jacob tsks angrily, and takes one hand off his arm just to grip his neck instead, and brings him closer.

Jacob exhales, “Don’t do that ever again.”

Sangyeon can’t promise anything. He, though, nods fast, reverently, and it hurts physically and emotionally, because he doesn’t care if it looks like he would do what Jacob wants in a blink of an eye. He doesn’t care if he looks straight into Jacob’s eyes and sees them tremble- because he doesn’t care if it ends up breaking him whole. 

The break in Jacob's instance is so noticeable that he doubts he's seeing and listening right. However, as he's about to address that, Jacob snaps his eyes shut and sighs. 

"Okay, now what? You've lost your car- What are you gonna do?" 

Sangyeon looks around once more. His car is still on ignition, ready to get the fuck out of there, but it doesn't belong to him anymore. 

Where does _he_ belong to, anyways? An office job that it's mostly to hide from all the illicit activities isn't where he belongs. The streets are not where he belongs either, at least not completely, and now it's going to take a bit to fully come back again. Sure, using the money from previous racings was a basic procedure, but… There's an uncertainty he doesn't know where comes from that stops him. 

"Do you care?", he finds himself repeating Jacob's drunken question. Jacob startles slightly, teeth tugging at the studs glinting on his lower lip.

"It was just a question."

"This was just a question too," he shrugs, but feels as the movement does not really convey what he's feeling. 

Sangyeon feels the telltale signs of a tremendous headache and his breath starts to pick up without his aval. 

"I don't know," it's his answer. He tries to look into Jacob's eyes and see the deviance from earlier- something, _anything_. But he sees only a hard stare that is laced with calculated coldness and control. 

Sangyeon nods and goes back inside his car to turn it off and hand the keys properly to its newest owner. The bumper is clearly damaged, but he quickly deems it minimal. A few days in the shed and it's new. Sangyeon closes the door carefully and locks the car. With thoughts trailing off to the high possibility of the smaller car needing a winch, or something, he doesn't realise Jacob still standing there and the figure waving at him from inside the vehicle - that Sangyeon analyses with a little more care now, and notices how it doesn't belong to any hospital. Great. When he first started there weren't even first aid kits.

It's the winner, and he was wrapped in a thick blanket and a neck brace. 

"Hey there- How's the baby?" he asks, and looks nothing like the gremlin that disrespected Sangyeon after one of his best races. Now, debilitated and _rapturous_ , the younger seems a little more sufferable. 

Sangyeon has no energy in him to snort or send him a mere smile, and so he doesn't feel compelled to get on his good side. 

After all, it should be all the way around.

Sangyeon hands him the keys and says, "don't call her that. Also", he mutters nonchalantly, “are you fine?” 

The guy only snorts and tries to nod. Sangyeon eyes him from head to toe and decides that it’s okay; there must be a hospital nearby if he starts to feel anything else. Sangyeon shouldn’t worry if the guy himself doesn't, right? 

He got no business there for a while. And he has no reasons to linger, seeing that everyone else is too busy getting out of the impending rain. What should he do besides calling a taxi to go home? 

He walks away from the ruckus while tearing off his fingerless gloves, noticing the way they were very minimally shaking. Good. 

"Hey!" the same voice shouts again, "My name's Eric, by the way!" 

Sangyeon turns around. And just then he notices Jacob _still_ looming there, like a ghost of some sort. He looks as lost as Sangyeon had never seen him before. He swallows down the need to call him over. 

"Nice to meet you, Eric. Take good care of the car, will you?" 

He still sees Eric's smile while turning around once again - God, still a kid. What was he doing there, after all? Despite all the initial arrogance, he seemed like a… kid. Just a kid. 

And he tries to fill his thoughts with things that are not related to any of those things that he had witnessed - from his accident to whatever that was. Whatever Jacob meant by not delivering thoughts and words, and for standing there after. He doesn't need to think about that. He doesn't need to think at all. 

  
  


Communication was never really one of Sangyeon's fortes. Hence the accountant office job he got after majoring in business - that worked really well for someone almost having to go undercover. He _wasn't_ undercover; he was practically risking his life. After leaving without even getting a quick check, he felt it was inutile to try a hospital in the next day. What happens, happens.

Minor problems aside, he wasn't a very good conversationalist. He, sure, knew the basics, but he also used to cut short whatever the "basics" were. 

Hyunjae reads it perfectly as, several days after the fiasco from last race, he finally opens up about- Well, everything. 

And everything includes leaving Jacob there, and the liviness of the junior that managed to nag his car, and losing his car. He just doesn't explain that doing one of those things had hurt more than he expected, in the end. 

He had called Hyunjae first thing after he reached his apartment that night. Over the time, he had perfected the exact voice tone to deliver possibly devastating news to him, but he still overreacted for a good ten minutes. This, and then freaking out about the accident for another fifteen. Sangyeon thinks he deserves to hear that despite being a responsible hag for a lot of things, he got no sense of self preservation whatsoever, and he silently agreed to it, over Hyunjae's exasperated sounds.

Hyunjae, now, listens carefully, twirling a lock of his hair between two fingers. At the conclusion of his story, he hums thoughtfully. He's very careful with his words, now that he deems Sangyeon out of danger.

"Plans about next race? What car you gonna get now? Can I see it before anyone else?" 

Ah, yes. Hyunjae couldn't race, but he was truly a nerd when it came to the machines. So many names and functions and others over a thousand things to be added, that Sangyeon barely could keep up.

He hates to see the light in his eyes dim as he replies, "I'm not thinking about getting one now." 

Then, as if to test Sangyeon's patience, he shrieks, "You can't do that. Especially for the reason I'm thinking right now." 

Sangyeon sighs, "I'm not mad about giving my car away to some kid, Hyunjae. He was-" 

"Oh no, no, shut the fuck up!" 

The whole office just got eerily quiet. Sangyeon's very absent boss just pops his head out of the reunion room and snaps them to reality again. Sangyeon feels little guilt for not doing his job in order to, as he absolutely hates to admit, gossip with Hyunjae but it was needed. 

"Why? I just-" 

"Sangyeon, buddy, no. Have you talked to him yet?" Hyunjae inquires, and Sangyeon feels the burn of it in his whole body. 

"Eric?" 

"No, you moron! _Eric_ \- For fuck's sake," Hyunjae sighs exasperatedly and Sangyeon almost mirrors him, because that's exactly how he feels. Opting to just frown deeply, he lets Hyunjae recover his decency before speaking again - this time, his tone is icy cold. 

"First of all- I know you can afford another racing car right now, if you so wish for. And I know how much you wouldn't simply quit it. That's not you." 

Sangyeon stays silent. He knows Hyunjae is right, but he has absolutely no idea of where this is going.

"Now, from what I understand since the beginning, you and Jacob hate each other for whatever reason you hadn't clarified yet and somehow y'all got into each others' pants for quite some time now. Aside from that, you have no idea who he truly is or what he does for a living and _still_ got yourself hooked on the guy like… Like…", Hyunjae trails off, looking pointedly at Sangyeon. His cheekbones emphasize the hardness of his stare, like he's about to hurt Sangyeon with only his words. 

"Like…?" 

Now that he has an idea, he doesn't like where this is going. 

Hyunjae's nostrils flare, "Like what, Sangyeon. What do you think? You've been seriously into some bullshit for _months_ now, and I've been indulging you since I noticed- yet you don't know?" 

What does he not know? What is there to know besides that Jacob is a menace and not good for his mental health? 

"I _urge_ you to think about the last time you've slept with anyone else. Do you remember how we used to call you?" Sangyeon opens his mouth but Hyunjae is faster, "Can you think about a reason for the over thinking you've been doing? Wait- Are you even thinking at all?" 

Ouch. 

"I've been thinking…" Sangyeon gulps, never used to Hyunjae getting so upset with him particularly, "...about quitting, actually."

Sangyeon had never seen what a hurricane looked like in real life, but if he was to compare- 

"That's not what you're gonna do! Lee Sangyeon! That's the absolute opposite of what you're gonna do! Your shift is finished you're going to-" then he stops himself right there to angry whisper, " _buy another car!_ " 

"But-" 

"No buts. You've heard me before, you're not quitting." 

Sangyeon sighs.

"Yes, and I agreed with you silently. But what's my best option- I want you to be completely sincere." 

They hold gazes for God knows how long for. This feels like a badly thought plan going wrong. 

"Buy the damn car. Race. Your routine is back to normal,” Hyunjae carefully points to his own head, looking straight into Sangyeon’s eyes, “ and talk to him." 

He wishes it was this easy.

"We don't talk." 

Hyunjae raises an interested eyebrow, mumbling, "why this doesn't surprise me at all." 

"We barely discussed our- this- this arrangement, thing. I've felt for him a growing hate that I thought he reciprocated. Do you know how _hard it is_ to talk?"

"Yes," he interrupts briefly, petty, "I have anxiety." 

Sangyeon frowns and ignores him, "at some point, it was obsolete. He was technically mine, I was technically his. Wouldn't that be just peachy?" 

They both snort, but Sangyeon's is followed by a hollow laugh. 

"I thought it was unnecessary- now I don't know how to bring it up." 

The office fell into familiar noises again, people walking around with papers and plastic cups filled with bitter black coffee. 

Hyunjae finally throws a smile at him, and it feels reassuring. 

"You know, you're not the only one incapable of talking in this strange relationship of yours. He most probably has something to say and you have to be willing to let him." 

Hyunjae barely knows that, at this point, he'd let Jacob do whatever he wanted, if he deemed right or necessary. 

“And think about yourself- Think about what I said, okay? Can I count on you?” 

He just nodded.

  
  
  
  


He couldn't get another car for another two weeks. Jacob hasn't contacted him yet.

Strange. 

His mind travels around their last but one encounter - the way they woke up so late in the afternoon, with Jacob completely above Sangyeon, and the way they had a silent breakfast at three in the afternoon -, his resolve after the last race - the way his first reaction after Jacob's apathy was withdrawing, closing off and penting up his anger - and the talk with Hyunjae. 

The way he seemed to be the only one between them that could understand Sangyeon better, if he was willing to. 

Will. 

Hyunjae didn't understand the situation from his point of view - he was just another spectator between dozens of them. His companions, the ones that helped Sangyeon get upgrades for his car - they had a truth. Sangyeon's closest friends, Hyunjae and Juyeon- they had their twisted views. 

For Juyeon, Jacob was an angel in disguise. 

Even the stupid bunch in his office, thanks to Hyunjae, had another kind of twisted view. 

Just no one knows Jacob the way he did, as if it was something. Only Jacob knows what he does and why he does, and someday Sangyeon will be able to ask. 

Following his first predicament, it's strange that Jacob hasn't reached out yet - despite the feeling of constant neediness, Jacob still could beat him at trying too hard. 

Sangyeon simply feels. Jacob runs after. 

He hadn't called due to unusual business in between his free time; getting another racing car wasn't as easy as he imagined, and he ended up having to ask Hyunjae for help. 

Or maybe he just felt the need to see him fanboying over cars. 

Either of the options, his car is with him now, Juyeon has been visiting a lot more than he's used to, and despite having another soul around wasn't very normal for him, Juyeon was easy company. 

Yet, he feels restless. 

His mind fruitlessly keeps going back to that afternoon. 

_Waking up when the sun was fully shining was a sensation he wasn't used to; much less feeling this suffocated. The weight pressing against his chest, however, hadn't felt worse than the heat seeping through every single cell of his body - his hair was plastered against his forehead, and he felt the patch of sweat uniting his back and the mattress. They had accidentally fallen asleep still under the comforter, despite being morning already when they went to bed._

_Sangyeon had been too busy staring at the ceiling, as he clearly remembers; sleep only found him much later, when the world was turning and people were going here and there - he was closing his eyes and absentmindedly enjoying the presence with him._

_At some point in the day, however, Jacob let go of their face-to-face situation and, purposefully or not, climbed Sangyeon all the way to the top._

_He was completely on Sangyeon, from chest to toes, his head turning to be buried against Sangyeon's neck while his was facing the ceiling still._

_Jacob was very lucky that he was a peaceful sleeper._

_Still taking in the different lighting of the room, the lack of freeze and Jacob's uneven breathing, he said, "I know you're awake."_

_His voice sounded worse than he intended. Jacob laid still._

_"I know you know that," he murmured back, all hoarse and groggy, "just very comfy."_

_To this day, he still doesn't know how the fuck was that something near comfortable, but he hadn't had the chance to ask._

_Sangyeon wasn't holding him, having his arms stretched alongside his body lazily. Jacob didn't seem to mind, but he was hugging Sangyeon, though, with both hands tucked under Sangyeon's body possessively._

_After staying like that for God knows how long, Sangyeon started to drift off to sleep again, only to be rudely awakened by Jacob asking where his phone was._

_"Must have left him in your pants," he grumbled, feeling Jacob move slightly against him, probably to get out of the bed._

_Just when he was starting to enjoy the odd sensation._

_To his dismay, however, Jacob only untucked his hands from under Sangyeon's torso and reached for his face. They were obviously warm._

_"Hm," he said, cupping Sangyeon's cheeks, "we didn't even do anything at the party or here."_

_Sangyeon didn't budge. He kept talking._

_"There were plenty of rooms there…", Jacob mused out loud, only to pry something from Sangyeon, who only blinked his eyes into focus. Seeing Jacob like that still was a concept his head was trying (and failing) to comprehend. Yet, as the warmth took hold of his being completely, having Jacob pressed against him was certainly changing things. In a bold but tiny action, he went slightly stiff under Jacob, just so he could feel the lines of their bodies connecting. He lazily looked up at Jacob._

_"I wasn't in the mood then."_

_That picked Jacob's interest. To be fair, Sangyeon got just the right amount of horny only by the dancing, but everything that happened after only confused and turned him down. For mornings like these, though, that he didn't get to have very often, a new spark of want was sent through his whole body since he had woken up. In better, fastforward words, he was already half hard._

_If Jacob could feel it emanating from him, he couldn't be sure, but his next move certainly had a great deal of confidence in it._

_"Are you now?"_

_Jacob looked so different. So painfully discrepant from their numerous previous encounters; especially contrasting with the Jacob that undressed his body and soul with only his eyes that night in the garage._

_This Jacob had the exact same glint in his eyes, but they couldn't be confused with each other - for the lightness of the clothes, the blatant void of thick fabric and the heavy air surrounding his demeanor._

_Sangyeon could possibly write something stupid and heartfelt about how fucking dazzling he looked with his hair down, disheveled from the previous night shower, objectively looking like a bird's nest-_

_"I want to see you try," he said only, unfocusing from Jacob's hair and actually looking at him in the eyes. Jacob sighed dramatically and dove into Sangyeon's personal space again, making Sangyeon gasp._

_Their faces were mere centimetres apart, and Jacob rolled his hips slowly, "I was wondering if you'd let me pay for my promise."_

_Sangyeon's head blanked out for a bit. His hands were already very comfortably placed on Jacob's waist, and he couldn't possibly say no to that- there was no cell in his body that would've said no to that, if they could._

_Sangyeon suppressed the wild feeling of wanting this to be routine so he could sober up and at least give Jacob a positive signal before he could latch on to Sangyeon's neck and pair his cadenced movements with the well (and evil) placed licks and nips._

Their breakfast only came at almost four in the afternoon. 

Sangyeon barely forgets to not forget about himself, Hyunjae's words echoing all day long inside his head, competing with his memories to take control of his entire mind. And for an extended period of time he just wonders, and gets little work done - concentration doesn’t come easily when he’s distressed. 

Fortunately, his nature always speaks louder. And if he misses certain feelings or anything close to that, Hyunjae’s voice tones down and his own begs him to overcome it.

  
  


When Sangyeon hops out of his newly bought car, he hears a whistle. 

This garage held his first win, too long ago, and it has suffered a lot of changes - one of them is that it holds hundreds of cars, some of them that he knows, a lot that he doesn’t. It’s a big one, for the brightest of days when they’re daring and the darkest of nights when there’s too much accumulated tension to let out - and too many competitors for the pacific streets rounding smaller corners of the city.

Fighting away the urge to ignore, he turns back around to find Hyunjae walking towards him. He's prepared to smile at his friend, something he doesn't remember doing for days, but it gets postponed as Hyunjae walks fairly quickly towards him with a look in his eyes that Sangyeon couldn't describe. 

Reaching closer, Hyunjae says, "I'm sorry, Sangyeon." 

Every kind of alarm goes off in Sangyeon's head. What a terrible way to greet friends. To start a conversation. Did someone die? 

Sangyeon's frown must be so deep Hyunjae waves a hand near his face, distressed, and starts blabbering, "Sorry for not giving you an option about your own life choices, man. I was being pushy when you were physically and mentally shaken."

He feels as if the world has completely gone still for a second.

"For God's sake, Hyunjae," he lets out a relieved breath, it nearly emptying his stock of oxygen completely, "I thought someone had died- You saying sorry and all that, _like_ that-" 

"Oh- Fuck, sorry. Sorry," Hyunjae finally seems to break away from his initial instance, reaching to touch Sangyeon's new car, "I've been thinking about it since last time and despite being nervous around you for all these days, I really didn't think this through, like… The approach. Juyeon said I was insensitive," he rolls his eyes, but visibly deflates.

When Hyunjae looks down, Sangyeon snorts. His friend is funny for thinking that he has this kind of power upon him. Only that he sort of does - but not completely. 

"It's fine. Now go back to normal, you're freaking me out."

Hyunjae laughs - it's still meekly, but it's something - and starts to tell him how getting sleep has been a pain in the ass when all he could do was think about apologizing. 

Sangyeon reassures him, and only to himself, he tells that he's been having trouble finding sleep, too. Hyunjae absolutely doesn't need to hear that, now that they've finally been talking about other things that are not Jacob. 

Still, his mind helps supply all the gaps of real life with memories and - more cruel, potentially more dangerous - his own made up thoughts. Things he'd like to go through, things he thinks would be cool to experience. 

No amount of talk fills this specific gap. And, God, he thinks he's going crazy. 

He didn't race that day, despite being a fairly hot one, with several good conditions to enjoy - and several new faces too, ones that reeked of wealth and, quite possibly, other troublesome crimes against humanity too. Sangyeon doesn't spare them another glance throughout the day, even when he _knows_ that they talk about all the casual competitors and winners like they're some kind of possession. 

Sangyeon can deal with that later. Now, he needs to find Jacob - to say what, he doesn't know certainly yet. It doesn't stop him, though. He's going to say _something_ \- that something will have to be enough. 

Enough to think things through. To start things anew, if they're being daring. Sangyeon just wants to- He desperately needs to- 

Jacob is sitting there, surrounded by guys and girls he knows, but doesn't talk to. Greeting them all feels less challenging when they respectfully greet back, some with stupid look in their eyes, some with malice. 

Jacob stares at him and, without being properly prompted, takes steps closer to Sangyeon. With a discrete wave of his hand, Sangyeon gets the hint and knows they're distancing themselves for a talk. His palms are shamefully clammy already. He takes a breath.

"Jacob-" 

"What are you doing here?" 

Sangyeon halts and stares. He's not sure if he's concealing his shock very well, but Jacob looks relentless. 

"Sangyeon, why are you here?" 

And all that pep talk about letting him explain himself. His first urge is to rightfully step back, but something makes him stay firmly on his place. He tries to evoke his innermost persevering side and waits. 

Seeming aware of Sangyeon's resolveness, Jacob clears his throat. 

"Go home, Sangyeon." 

"What-" 

"Do as I say, stubborn." 

He looks around. Why shouldn't he be there? Why shouldn't he be where he most feels whole? Why shouldn't he come back? 

His gaze lands on Jacob again, who's looking effortlessly beautiful with all his piercings and his windswept hair. Sangyeon must say he himself woke up not wanting to conceal expressions at all, since he's able to tell that Jacob's hard look _is_ concealed to downturn Sangyeon crestfallen face. 

He doesn't understand what's going on. There's the telltale signs of _wrongness_ everywhere, prickling his nape, making the little hairs stand up with alarm. However, there is a thing he came to do and he feels brave enough to barreal all this uncertainty around the air. 

With enough of aforementioned pep talk racing through all the other thoughts around his head, he resolutely grabs one of Jacob's hands - and sees the way he stiffens in response, and his eyes harden - and says, "Come home with me." 

Pulling his racing car into traffic in broad daylight is always an experience. Today, though, despite being just the second time he does that, the thrumming of expectation in his veins get clouded by the acknowledgement that Jacob is with him, and not only that: they're going to his apartment. 

After not talking (or, what's more alarming, not fucking) for several days, it's to be expected that they would've be worse than ever.

As in Jacob turning his head around to rest it against the window, trying and failing to find privacy in the limited space, and Sangyeon not only once tearing his eyes off the road - from responsibility _and_ the sheer terror of speaking. 

He grips the wheel and does just that, anyways.

"I'm sorry." 

Jacob doesn't turn his head to look at him, despite Sangyeon being aware that he wouldn't, too, since he's trying to drive safely. 

"Don't be," he states, voice not even wavering. Sangyeon spots the red light ahead and slows to a stop, finally gathering enough courage to stare at Jacob's huddled form on the passenger seat.

"Do you know _what_ I'm sorry for?" 

When Jacob only shrugs, he feels rage overrunning all of the other scattered thoughts, crushing them in a trillion tiny pieces. 

He expected talking about this in grandfulness, his stupid romantic mind, and expected being able to convey his messy hopes well enough so Jacob could decide how he would break his heart: by stating they were fuck buddies only or leaving him for good. 

"I expect this is a mending. So we can go back to whatever we were." 

"You _expect_ this?", Sangyeon asks, alarmed. 

Well, it isn't truly like Jacob can't think like this, since he's the most interested in this arrangement. _He_ should expect this coming from the other. Sangyeon swallows another question and the light goes green. 

"What would I have expected? You figured that out already. What _should_ I have expected?" he says, as if he's calculating. If his voice was a color, this time it would have merged into a silver. 

Sangyeon barely has time to be impressed and envious of his demeanor, because he spots his apartment block and exhales heavily. 

When they're in the garage, Jacob takes off the safety belt but doesn't get out of the car. Sangyeon does the same, and then says, "I was saying sorry for leaving you that night. I was sure- Um- Distressed, but it doesn't make it less bad. So, I’m sorry." 

Jacob bites the insides of his cheeks, seeming deep in thought. 

Only that he wasn't, as his response reflects it, "Now that you've done this, we can resume the not talking thing? _And_ the fucking?" 

Sangyeon scoffs. _Yes_ , the chaotic side of his mind provides. 

"This is the only thing you can think of? Seriously?" 

The other side, though, gets bothered by the impending failure. 

He starts to think that even while willing to let Jacob do whatever he wants - and still not having a name for that, but committing to it head first -, there's this minor prodding that urges him to rethink. Reconsider. 

"Well- Given the circumstances, yes," Jacob says, "I wouldn't dissonate with you in that." 

"Dissonate?" 

The silence goes somewhat thicker inside the car, that is still on and providing air conditioning, but Sangyeon feels suffocated.

"I make sure to be in harmony with your desires, Sangyeon." 

Sangyeon holds his breath while looking directly into Jacob's eyes to search for something- anything, but he still hides most of his true expressions somewhere else. Visible are just the hardness of his jaw, the way it's set, and the slight furrow of his eyebrows. On his lips, though, rests a small smile that says absolutely nothing to Sangyeon besides that he's ready to stop talking and take the elevator to the eleventh story. 

"My desires." 

"Yes," he exhales. 

Something feels _wrong_ and he knows what it is, but at the same time he can't stop Jacob from coming closer just to say _I think we need to talk more cuz my head is about to explode and if I don't speak right now-_

"Sangyeon," Jacob purrs, breaking completely the mask he has put on. "You know you can say you missed me too, right?" 

_Too?_

"Too?" 

"Too," Jacob parrots. They're not touching yet but Sangyeon can feel his warm breath against his lips. 

It's degrading to think, feel and know that their still not enlightening talk could end just like that, with Jacob having him on the palm of his hand again (it's not like he was ever out of it) - for a moment he doesn't care. 

"I did." 

The negligence of weeks and overthinking of months hit him hard, and Jacob's hands are too soft of his nape and shoulder that he deems it a fair trade. Sangyeon lets him take his lips and bruise them before kissing properly, and he thinks it's what it's right. 

Still, while being kissed thoroughly does wonders to his mind, a compilation of reasons why he _shouldn't_ be doing it just now hits even harder. 

Then, fast it started fast it ends, with Sangyeon's hand curling around Jacob's locks and physically dragging him away from his face. He is breathless, confused and turned on. 

"Let's go up." 

  
  


Perhaps this didn't go like Sangyeon had (barely) planned, but he thinks it's enough that Jacob is back, sprawled on his bed with a breath hitched in his throat. 

Jacob is back, and everything should shift back to normal along with him, but it doesn't. 

When Jacob says, "Wreck me," while staring past Sangyeon's soul - "please, Sangyeon" -, he doesn't know if his body is ready to go down with it. 

Jacob's voice tells him to detach himself from his overly loud thoughts, and he wants to do just that, but Jacob's eyes are another completely different situation. He looks at them and doesn't see them half lidded, with a glint of pure wicked energy. Instead, he sees yearning- Jacob's eyes are searching his face just like he's doing. 

All at once, the days where Jacob could be found in his apartment start to play back in his head, and it forces him to notice that none of them had the weight this one has - and none of them had marked him so thoroughly as much as the day after that unusual party. 

_Focus_ , he berates himself. 

Sangyeon is kneeling on the bed right in front of a pliant looking Jacob, yet the first thing he does is grab his hand. _To ground myself_ , he chants on his head, worried _, this is to ground myself_. 

Jacob lets him do it. He lets him bring it close to his mouth and kiss it, too. Sangyeon's breath trembles and he hopes to seem bold and daring when planting a kiss on Jacob's palm, but sincerely can't think of something more yielding than this. 

He's never done this. 

Not to Jacob, not to anyone. 

He had worshipped Jacob's body before- several bodies before. It wasn't just so delicately. Jacob likes to feel a lot of things at the same time and likes to feel it rough; Sangyeon's job is to comply, because seeing him enjoying himself is fulfilling enough. 

They don't say anything about that, and Sangyeon thinks it's for the better, now. With Jacob's hand still in his, he lowers himself to be at eye level with Jacob. 

He is hoping for things Sangyeon is willing to give, but at the same time it feels off. Not that his desire is missing; it's just misplaced. 

And he _wants_ Jacob, perhaps like he never wanted before, but also in a different way. 

His relationship with Jacob was more based in hate and power play than pure, unabashed want. Sangyeon could discern the simple desire of taking and giving to the mental wrestling he had with Jacob, both enduring through their stupid restrictions and fighting through the unplanned need to chase after. Despite having Sangyeon wrapped around his little finger and _knowing_ that, Jacob was always more likely to go out of his way to pester Sangyeon in different ways. 

Sangyeon liked to remind him of that, sometimes.

Today, though, he doesn't want to say anything. So he doesn't. 

The first kiss they share after getting out of the car, taking the elevator, clumsily using the bathroom for similar purposes, is when Sangyeon is done with his cleaning process and waits by the bed. Jacob had pecked his lips with such ease that he got himself thinking their talk in the car was all in his head. 

There was an intimacy that doesn't go through with _this_ kiss. 

In this kiss, Jacob's hands find home in Sangyeon's hair but they're shaky; Sangyeon sucks on his lower lip but he lets it scape with a hiss when Jacob pulls his hair perhaps with more force than necessary and bucks his hips up with a hint of desperation; they breathe heavily against each other's mouths but Sangyeon tries again. 

Sangyeon pecks his lips just like he'd done a while ago. Jacob eyes him carefully, a question visible, written all over his face. Praying that he doesn't say anything, Sangyeon drags his lips against the soft skin of Jacob's cheek and kisses it, then his jaw, the spot behind his ear, and the expanse of his neck. Jacob's breath sputters lightly. 

“What’s with you?” he demands, but his own voice betrays him. 

“What’s with _you_?” Jacob emphasizes. 

Sangyeon notices that he was the one who broke the silence. Tsking to maintain the resemblance of what was once rage, he bites down on Jacob's neck to distract him. 

Jacob hums in response and it seems like it's all it takes from them to go back to each other without thinking much - it's all Sangyeon wants. It's all he needs. 

He brings his face to Jacob's collarbones, and holds both of his arms at the same time. He decides to share his attention, to divide them into tiny parts and spread them against Jacob's body concomitantly. 

Jacob exhales sharply when Sangyeon uses a little more force in his bite, and he immediately soothes it with a lick and a kiss. 

"Sorry," he mutters. _Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask_ , his mind desperately screams.

Jacob tries to take his face on his hand and Sangyeon cowers a little. Against his better judgement, he looks at Jacob in the eye and vocalises it, "Don't ask."

"Please," Jacob says, and Sangyeon is momentarily confused by the request. He shakes his head- not only to answer him, but also to get his head straight. 

Jacob gives him a look that faintly mirrors the one at the night of the accident. It holds something, this time, and isn't hollow like it once was. 

He still wants answers, but Sangyeon wants them to. 

Right now, he must only give in to the pleasure and the crushing feeling of getting the longing away. He can't have the luxury of wanting. 

So, to mute Jacob's weighting stare and his own loud mind, he fervently kisses Jacob's skin all over- from his neck to near the pubic hairs, which causes him to squirm. 

He can't deny that, despite the heat, he's slower than usual. More careful. It isn't that when he reaches Jacob's arousal that they completely stop. 

"If you don't want to go on…" 

Jacob looks bewildered. 

"Why wouldn't I?" 

Why would he not? 

"I can't have you speaking so close to my dick. When we were tal-" 

"Fine."

Sangyeon gets a hold of his thighs and his mouth opens enough to fit half of Jacob's cock in; which is not a good idea, since the other was caught unprepared and bucked his hips up, producing a sound that went straight south. 

Sangyeon is not quick enough to press his thighs down, but he manages to go further and swallow around it like he's done a few times. Neither he nor Jacob liked it too much, even though Jacob has lips and a mouth that…

Well.

Furthermore, today's a special occasion. He knows what to do to make Jacob's head spin right round. 

He appreciates the sounds that leave Jacob's throat as soon as he hums contentedly, hyper aware that he’s being watched. One of his hands leaves the thighs he's caged between, trembling, and starts to fondle his balls. Jacob’s head hit the pillow with unnecessary force. Caressing the skin of his thighs and up, up until he finds one of Jacob's nipples to pinch it, Sangyeon is barely prepared to the consequences of his actions.

Jacob gasps and spasms again, and that time it reaches the back of Sangyeon's throat. He presses his eyes close, drawing a deep breath, canny enough to know that shaky limbs and messy breath are Jacob's primary signals, so he lets go of his cock before he starts fucking his mouth. 

Jacob complains, voice spent, "cruel." It stirs something inside him.

"I am," Sangyeon hovers over Jacob's body, as if studying it. Taking it slow so far had reminded him that Jacob and he treat each other like little trophies. 

Jacob won Sangyeon over every other night, and it was never the other way around. Was it?

"When you stop to think like that it gives me chills," Jacob comments nonchalant, still a little out of breath - and it's so uncharacteristic of him that he hasn't taken ahold of Sangyeon's dick while he wasn't paying attention that, for a moment, he almost wishes he has, because then Sangyeon wouldn't be able to ask his next question.

"So you're into himbos?" 

The laugh Jacob gives is offsetting. Sangyeon stares at his front teeth. The sound gets stranger by the second, whole, loud, playful but not the usual playful. 

"I hate you," he says, but his hands are all over Sangyeon's chest and shoulders, then his hair. Jacob yanks him down. "Say it too."

Sangyeon glues their bodies together, "I may hate you." 

Jacob is about to kiss him, but stops with his lips half open, neck strained out of the bed to reach him. 

"Fucking commit to it." 

Their breaths mingle in between their bodies, forcefully sharing heat, sweat collecting along their connected skin. 

Sangyeon brushes their noses together. 

It's mostly to make Jacob shut up. He succeeds. Then, he immediately registers how fond it felt. 

He sees the exact moment when Jacob stops smiling losely and the way he minimally chokes, throat closing without his command. 

"Say it too," he demands now, his voice so strained that Sangyeon barely hears it. "I played with you until now. We've been feeding this feeling for months- Say it back." 

Sangyeon stays frozen in place.

Jacob wants him to finally address the relationship as they should. Does that fucking exist, after all? Why do Jacob want it to be real so bad?

Why can't they just-

"Sangyeon."

He notices he stopped looking at him. He also notices, too late, that Jacob is drawing his hands away from his body and instead pushing himself out of Sangyeon's bed, out from under him, completely ignoring that maybe- maybe Sangyeon would have something… Better to say back.

Then again, Jacob's intentions were always very clear.

They should stick to that, so Sangyeon begrudgingly lets him go. 

It's silent when, instead of gathering his clothes in the speed of light, or maybe faster than that, Jacob only takes a blanket and wraps it around his body. 

Right there, in the middle of the room, he looks like he'd just kissed Sangyeon good morning, preparing to leave their cozy corner to reach for the bathroom door across it. 

Sangyeon doesn't mind his nudeness around Jacob, usually, but he does cover at least his crotch when he spots the strange behaviour. Jacob is not talking, nor walking away, nor mocking him, nor trying to seduce him from afar. He could do that, with the way that most of the blanket is covering only his hips and legs, and his chest is bare, soft, glistening slightly.

"I don't wanna repeat myself and I don't wanna discuss with you again-" he starts, but Sangyeon feels stupid enough to interrupt him.

"Why not?" 

"Why _not?_ ", he mirrors, only more coldly.

"Tell me a good reason not to," Sangyeon tries. 

Is it how it feels?

"What are you trying to do right now?" 

To run around in circles to reach absolutely nothing but continuing to do that because it is somewhat what seems right?

"I'm trying to understand you." 

Jacob's face morphs into a scowl, but he laughs quietly.

"Sadly, you'll never do that with the kind of intel you have."

Funnily enough, he doesn't seem sad at all.

Sangyeon muses out loud, "I wonder whose fault is that." 

In response, Jacob shifts the blanket, transferring his weight from one foot to another. "Yeah," he sniffs, clears his throat, then announces, "You only know what I've shown you."

Sangyeon would've considered it enough reason to be proud. Inspecting, even from a little afar, Jacob's hands are still and he has his mouth shut petulantly, but it's more from his natural pouty lips than anything else. He resists the urge to reach out. And swallows down the resemblance of the whole situation to another that, to this day, plague his mind like a wild beast.

He repeats his words, "only what I've shown you." 

After another bit of silence from Sangyeon's side, he turns to speak.

"Does it make you angry?" 

Sangyeon shakes his head, conflicted, "Yes."

What he doesn't say, and doesn't deem appropriate, is that besides feeling that, he's feeling impotent, restrained, foolish, trapped and a little dead inside.

He could never be completely wronged for Jacob's lack of sharing. He knew only what he had to know, what Jacob liked him to, because it helped them both. There wasn't such a necessity that made him spill his considerable amount of hidden information. Information that Sangyeon never thought he would be honoured to know.

Ever since the beginning, Jacob was so secretive that it made Sangyeon's attention pick up. But he never, _ever,_ said something to bring it up in a conversation. Not that they had many of them, until now. 

He could count the times Jacob was looking at him in the eyes for a reason other than to help him seek release.

"If you want to let out your rage, do it on me." 

Sangyeon looks up.

"I know you want to." 

Sangyeon exhales sharply, "No."

"No? Then what?" 

Good question. 

Why would he let the rage swallow him up (and then Jacob altogether) if he doesn't know if it fits properly anymore? 

He hears the blanket shifting again- it's Jacob, unwrapping it from his body, leaving it on the ground. He picks up his clothes very fastly, only a blur moving around, and Sangyeon stays without reaction to this very incomplete convo.

He tries to clear his throat; it's constricted. 

"You don't have to go."

If that’s possible, Jacob’s stare only hardens.

"No?" 

Sangyeon soundlessly shakes his head.

"Why?" 

Sangyeon inhales and exhales very slowly. "Have you not gotten anything from our conversation in the car…?"

" _This_ ", he points to the general direction of the bed, "is what I got."

Sangyeon sighs. Jacob genuinely looks fed up, and he is too, but-

"What should I get, Sangyeon? What's there you're not telling me?" 

For a moment, he's reticent. _Yes, Sangyeon_ , his mind supplies, _is_ there _something you're not telling?_

"What should I expect from someone with your fame?", Jacob's voice interrupts him. Sangyeon's always been too busy with the way his voice wavers and breaks, and the intonation of his most secluded moans. He talks and it's soft, his voice doesn't match his actions, nor, at this moment, his face. 

Sangyeon sobers up.

"My- What?"

Finally, the spells break and Jacob hides his snicker by slightly turning his head back. When he looks at Sangyeon again, he is smirking.

"Don't play innocent now, mister."

"If there's anyone playing here, it's you," his voice wavers just a little in the end. He hates how his heartbreak picks up even when he's supposed to feel levelheaded. 

"No, _you_ are the player! Sangyeon, the nickname," Jacob says and feigns a gag sound after. Like a trigger, Sangyeon's brain snaps.

"The _nickname?_ "

_Hyunjae._

"Who the fuck told you that?" 

_It could be anyone. It could be juyeon, that gullible idiot, for all he cares._

"Oh, honey." 

"It was hyunjae, wasn't it." 

It literally _could_ be anyone who knew it, from how many years ago, but who was more tangled with their history than that fucking brat? 

Jacob hums contentedly. He kicks the blanket away from his feet and toes around his pants like he's truly ready to go.

"Now, back to my worldly affairs-" his shirt is hanging from his shoulder and he _almost_ makes it out of the bathroom.

"Wait, Jacob."

"What."

"You- You think I'm a player?"

If a needle suddenly drops in the ground right now, Sangyeon would be able to hear it. 

Jacob frowns, turning around just for him to see that. 

"I know you are," he says, matter-of-factly, and stares at Sangyeon like he’s stupid, "I'm just playing _your_ game. Since the beginning."

"No," Sangyeon's stomach burns, "you're not." 

Jacob's lips turn down, but it's more from pity than sadness. His face is closed, and Sangyeon can't read it anymore.

"I'm at your mercy, Sangyeon. It's not the other way around." 

Sangyeon shakes his head, stunned. Now that he was going away. 

Wouldn't it be better if he went away and never came back? Wasn't he practically bolting out of Sangyeon's orbit right in this moment? 

Wouldn't it be better if Sangyeon just let him go, for once and for all, then?

"No. No, Jacob."

"I liked to pretend I was in control. It was fun," he chuckles. 

"Jacob."

"You played well, Sangyeon. I was and I am deeply meshed by you." 

"Shut up."

Jacob instantly stopped, genuinely curious. Sangyeon hated to see that look on him; though it was certainly part of his being, that made Sangyeon feel insignificant.

"You've been my torment, you. How can you say I was in charge of this whole th-thing," he stutters, "when I didn't even know you?"

Jacob breathes heavily. He drinks in Sangyeon's exasperated expression and says nothing.

"I don't know you, Jacob." 

He watches as Jacob's eyes tremble and he loses composure, slowly but dangerously, like an imploding building. His usually relaxed eyebrows were set in a frown since he left the bed, now only deepening it. His lips, bitten and swollen, are hard, in a line. Despite all that, his voice sounds perfectly leveled when he says:

"Of course you don't, you never wanted to." 

In a flash, Sangyeon feels his face harden altogether. The confusion from earlier had built up so monstrously that he physically couldn't possibly speak.

Accordingly, he opens his mouth but doesn't say anything.

"You never wanted to, never showed any interest," the nonchalant tone carves ugly feelings all over his chest, "I played along-"

"You played along? _I_ was dragged by your- your everything and _you_ played along? Jacob-", he practically pleads.

He never felt like he understood anything, ever. With Jacob, nothing was certain, even their nights. There was never certainty- only excitement, thrill, bliss. They never had time to think properly about anything else. Nothing was in their way, before. Jacob played. 

Sangyeon _played back_.

"I see we have different views of this history." 

_No shit_ . Sangyeon only stares, and stares so hard that his eyes hurt. With a sigh, he distances himself from the door, but it's only when Sangyeon physically _pats_ the bed that he decides to give up again. Maybe for the first time. Sangyeon is about to _know._

Sangyeon followed him with his eyes, just as he's been doing since day one; and he burns into his eyelids the way Jacob never hesitates to walk into his space again. And the way he looks down at him and maybe sees something that makes him reconsider. 

He sits back on the bed, close to where Sangyeon was but not touching, and says with resolve, "Okay. Okay, promise to keep quiet while I tell my point of view. And... other things."

"I-"

"Promise me, stubborn."

Sangyeon still couldn't take his eyes off Jacob.

"I promise," he says, meekly, only a mutter. Jacob certainly heard it. 

"Okay," and with the constant repetition of the word, Sangyeon sees the first cracks on the surface of the building. "First thing I learned about street racing was with a colleague from my uni. I'm a computer science major." 

He smiles at the way Sangyeon's face fills with silent awe. A _student._

"She talked hushedly about the racings, the competitors and how one of them was like… the best of them all."

"I was cectic at first, but then one night she led me to one of the sites and I got interested fairly fast. Something about the science and the technology behind all the illegal developments in the cars-" he babbles, "but mostly because of the guy that won that race. When he got out of the car, I couldn't take my eyes off of him- maybe it was the nonchalant but still aware vibe he had within him, I didn't know. She, my colleague, knew a few things about him and the other competitors as well, and she knew when to follow them to parties and pubs. I simply got sucked into this world when one of the members of the organisation asked if I had a car. When I said no, he helped me win one and then I started racing for fun. _And_ to get close to that guy."

Jacob isn't facing him now, but his gaze has a weird mix of softness and excitement, and has the kind of open look that- Sangyeon had never seen before. 

"I… don't really know what I was expecting when I tried that. After all, what sureness did I have that the guy would look at _me,_ of all people?" he waits. Sangyeon listens intently, but what would he say? "I was, I still kind of am, one of the juniors. _Fate_ , I believe it was, made the guy speak to me first. And I was just fooling around with a friend of mine. I feel bad for him because he didn't know I had an utter purpose to be there and it wasn't him at all,'' Jacob laughs morosely, "and the guy was there, congratulating me and I panicked a little inside just from my assumptions. I thought I should," a frown, "act like I was interesting enough to gain his attention. Jokes on me, that was me, my only self, all along and I wasn't lying to myself just to, I don't know, get in his pants."

He lets out a cheeky laugh, only to sober up too soon. Sangyeon focuses on the storytelling again, but to be completely honest, he doesn't know if he's capable of understanding. 

"I… _played along_. The guy was most definitely hitting on me- I mean, I was wearing my favorite leather pants, just for very special events; he was obviously testing waters - I was too. I played along to his song, I followed his rhythm, I followed him until where it was morally safe."

Now, sangyeon chortles, both because Jacob's sentence was funny and also a lie, as he sees Jacob had not been _following_ him. He'd been playing cat and mouse. 

He never played along. They're playing together- and Jacob is the one leading the way. 

Sangyeon exhales, "I think there's a slightly big misunderstanding here."

"You think."

"I am. Sure. I'm sure."

"Oh, Sangyeon. Yeah, from the looks of it, you had it all wrong." 

His frown couldn't possibly get _deeper_ \- but it gets. And it hurts. 

And just when he's about to burst from the amount of unconcealed feelings, Jacob reaches out and presses an intrusive thumb across his forehead. 

He says, "you're sure stupider than I thought."

  
  


Sangyeon needed to think more than he had previously thought. 

A game played by two, idealised by neither. It's almost ironic how it got them off guard. But, between the two, Sangyeon still feels more affected. 

That's why after their somewhat successful talk, Sangyeon sent him off with the promise of a next encounter. (He likes to act like Jacob hadn’t cut him off first, saying he needed to brain before anything else.) Ere, he needed to get things straight. 

And maybe talk to Hyunjae about a few things, too. 

It's late in the night when Sangyeon flops down on the couch with his phone in hands, ready to speak Hyunjae's ears off.

Or let him speak his. 

Hyunjae picks up on the second ring. 

"I'd feel puzzled by the sudden call but… Spill." 

He does his best. And tries not to cringe at his own hot (and wrong) takes, which led him to purposefully avoid _being_ in Jacob's presence, or else he'd be even more miserable. He piles all that sentiment in a brief rant, that he swears Hyunjae _will_ understand, and then waits.

What comes next shouldn't be surprising - but honestly speaking, he's more mad than anything else.

"I never doubted that Jacob would have a better rhetoric but _wow_ ," Hyunjae snickers, "That was worse than the time you thought speaking too much made men less attractive."

"Thanks. This was my maximum."

"Don't get all sour wolf on me," Sangyeon heard noises in the background, like plastic wrappers, "I don't know exactly how this… Conversation went, but I assume everything is okay now?"

Sangyeon groans a little.

Sure that when Sangyeon was ready to close the door, earlier that day, Jacob touched his face with a funny look in his eyes. He looked like he was ready to say something, but as hard as Sangyeon stared at him, he didn't. 

"...I guess. I cannot hate him." he exhales. "I can't. We'll see."

"' _We'_ ? Not 'I'"? Again, _wow._ "

"If you're going to spend your time messing with my face, you better hang up before I mess with yours."

Hyunjae is acutely aware of Sangyeon's way of "messing" with someone, so he giggles as a threat but decides to not go further.

Sangyeon rethinks his authority in silence.

"But really, I just wanted to congratulate you."

There's sincerity in his voice, just like it always has when he pours his heart out a little. Sangyeon hums, and a tension that he didn't know he was holding leaves his body. He feels better already, but not enough to forget the unfamiliarity and incognicy of his new status. 

"I hope you didn't interrupt him."

"I tried not to."

"Because you were doubting every second of his speech."

"I can't deny it."

Hyunjae scoffs. 

Silence engulfs them both again, and Sangyeon thinks he can live with the weight of being partially ignorant sometimes. 

  
  


And, after three days of trying not to think about how close Hyunjae and Jacob got while plotting behind his back, when he reached out to Jacob and waited for him on the couch, his mind ran through various ways of greeting him. 

He could ask about school. Would it be boring?

Maybe about his sparse races. Maybe about how his behaviour in one of garages that day would still bug Sangyeon's mind. Maybe he shouldn't ask anything, or say anything. Maybe he should wait for Jacob, exercise that in himself a little. 

When Jacob knocks on his door, he jolts out of the couch like it burns and rushes to let him in. 

And he looks _good_ \- better than the last day, better than the first day. 

Sangyeon feels a rush of _something_ in his belly and the same something running across his mind; Jacob is wearing the upper piece of his pajamas. _That_ pajamas.

"You stole that?"

Jacob scrutinizes him, a little smile spreading on his face by the second.

"I knew you'd say that."

Jacob comes in and, as always, fast and witty, makes the place his. Sangyeon feels disrupted enough by the events that he doesn't even feign annoyance; he lets Jacob do as he pleases. 

It’s ultimately strange. Not being enveloped by layers upon layers of grating need, so physically uncomfortable to the skin as it was mentally, not expecting Jacob to suddenly shift and acquiesce, then shift again and burn faster. When he did need to know what Jacob was going to do precisely but still have an idea, still have the assurance that, whatever it was, it wouldn’t make him decisively want to stop and think. It was off putting and disconcerting - and he was learning to cope with that. 

Jacob was phycologically leaning in more than he ever did, with the way it felt like an open invitation to not just snap and attack. 

And as domestic and disgusting as it sounds, he was - indirectly, obtusely - invited for lunch. 

"Like as in a date?", Jacob asked, munching on Sangyeon's stolen strawberries, that he got from opening Sangyeon’s fridge as if it was his.

"Yes. As in a date. If you'd like." 

Now, Sangyeon waits for his stir fry to perfect the flavour a little, between Jacob's legs, who's sitting on the counter. 

He feels awkward. And feels good when his awkwardness doesn't stop the other from speaking freely, and touching his hair while he does it, and engaging in his seamless never ending stories, until he says:

"You never really thanked me for saving your life, have you?"

Sangyeon looks up from where he has been concentrating energy on: his pajamas on Jacob.

"What?" 

Jacob tsks, "Three days ago, at the garage. You've probably seen those guys with shoes more expensive than my flat. They're… Scouts. Sort of," he mumbles. Sangyeon furrow his eyebrows, "With your name being in everyone's mouths after the fiasco of last race, they somehow got interested. I don't know any further, but you were their target for… International affairs."

Sangyeon blinks. 

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh._ Have you been wanting to… Go?" 

Go as in- Out of the country, to see the rest of the world, race in the uncharted?

Hm.

"Maybe when I was a junior," he says, and Jacob hums in acknowledgement. "You made me run away without knowing that. Smart."

"Smart?" he snorts, looking down at Sangyeon with his face slightly too red, "I was being impulsive and egoistic," with a tone that dictates Sangyeon should _have_ known.

A warm, uncomfortable sensation slowly spreads through his body, and he abruptly stops breathing.

"You didn't want me to go?" 

Perhaps he shouldn't be holding Jacob this close if he wanted a serious answer, but he guesses it's just fit.

"It's not like it would be hard to forget you- I would manage. Thing is," he brings their faces closer without trouble, because Sangyeon is leaning in too, pliantly, "I didn't want to deal with that."

He kisses Sangyeon short and sweet, and Sangyeon is sure that he's going to need more than three days to come to terms with the fact that this is his life right now. 

He doesn't let Jacob get any far.

There's discovery in his touch. He reaches up to drag one single finger across Jacob's cheek, in a silent awe as he sees how the other leans into it. 

"You're secretly…" he sighs, unable to find words. Jacob raises an eyebrow.

"I'm a lot of things. And I know how to read situations."

"That's how you bent."

His finger curls under Jacob's chin, thumb pinching it to bring his face down. 

"I unintentionally made you think I was in charge. And I intentionally bowed to you- That's right." 

Sangyeon will never understand how he says that with such ease, when it was never easy. Maybe in the beginning, when Sangyeon was just wondering and slowly breaking into Jacob's initial barriers, and everything was unconsciously hot and, but weightless. 

However, desire got mixed with confusion, and one night stand turned into a lot of them, and Sangyeon was never known for being keen with his most tender feelings. There was no tenderness in his relationship with Jacob, per se. Not conscious. 

It was convenient, he knew that much. 

"I know we can't erase this mess," Jacob caught his attention, once again rubbing the center of his forehead like a concerned parent, "but you gotta see the positive sides of it." 

Sangyeon doesn't need to vocalise his question. 

"We know each other on an intimate level, already," he chuckles, "what's left is boring. You don't need to worry about that."

"Boring?" 

"Yeah. To the standard of, like… The way we wash clothes. Or the pattern of the way we brush our teeth. Or make the bed. Or do the dishes? Boring!" 

They're speaking so close that Sangyeon gets a little bit distracted. Jacob's lips are really pretty. And of course he had seen that since day one, but now… 

Now, he gets to taste them with the lax of a…

Lover. 

And he picks up Jacob from the counter like one, too.

Jacob laughs openly, " _Hey_!" 

  
  


He may or may not know that all of the decisions he made in his life since fifteen were bound to mold the rest of his living days on Earth. Hyunjae now knows that Sangyeon is a jealous bastard, and Juyeon knows (little by little) that Jacob was sweet, but not that sweet, but inwardly very sweet, and he’s learning to understand that. Sangyeon appears to have more questions than he had ever felt the need to expose: a few of them regard Jacob’s inconstancy in the racings (and in Sangyeon’s personal opinion, his lack of compromise), to which he responds with, “I don’t know if you remember very well your uni days,” with a scowl. Hyunjae annoys Sangyeon for months before knowing that Sangyeon knew he acted like an ally (for Jacob. Mainly); Jacob had hinted a century ago that he is dramatic and reinforces his statement. His decisions weren’t dramatic, nor his assumptions of things. The world just needed to handle him a little gentler. Because when he asked for, years ago, challenges on the streets, he didn’t mean to take them to the sheets. 

He also didn’t expect them to linger - to the sheets, and every single corner of the rest of his house like it did. 

But Jacob was a force of nature - and he comes around and stays for a minute, and goes again and sends a picture, and is radio silent for days until he resurges - a bother -, tears down Sangyeon’s bedside lamp as he jumps right onto him and unbutton his shirt without a word. And Sangyeon wins a lot of races, lose some. He confesses losing to Jacob on purpose once. And Jacob races too, when he’s done with his thesis and the last few exams. 

He never moves in - Sangyeon doesn’t ask him to, and Jacob doesn’t show interest in that. He learns it the best way: Jacob _talks_ to him, and shows him again that since the beginning it’s what they should’ve done. Jacob shows him that they could work the way they’re best suited for, without having to mold themselves into standards that they can’t, at least at the moment, reach. Maybe it’s how it should be, so he doesn’t pry. Jacob doesn’t match with settled; Sangyeon would much rather see him braving through his thunderstorms and be there as a lighthouse. Or something like that. All he knows is that everything is back to normal, and his routine is what he most craves for - and, secretly, he learned how to crave for a little more than that, too, as they went. 

  
  


Sangyeon brews coffee at 2 am for fun. Jacob is sprawled on a chair and had just said something quite incredible to him: 

“Do you think I need some kind of evolution?”

He turns around with a scoff.

“As in you’re a pokemon and evolves physically, a career evolution or a mental one?” 

For him, personally, Jacob laughs too hard for the hour, but he lets it pass (as always). 

“I think I’m getting old but my actions are too stupid- like, for a teen they’re reasonable, but I’m almost a PhD now. Right?”

If Sangyeon is making the right assumptions, for the first time in his life, then he already has the answer. The coffee machine finally stops and he silently fills two cups, one with sugar and one without, and sits right beside Jacob. They take sips before anyone talks again, and it’s Sangyeon, with the wisest voice he can muster. 

“You’re great.”

Jacob snorts, but Sangyeon has learned to understand the _undertones_ in them, and this one is just sweet. Like that, under the single lamp lighting them up from above, the bags in his eyes make them disappear with the smile he sends him after. 

“Should I settle down?”

Sangyeon questions with his eyes, no sound leaving his mouth as it’s occupied with the cup. 

“Like… With you.”

The coffee runs hot against his throat but feels cold in his stomach. Has Sangyeon been showing distaste without knowing? 

“I- That would be… Neat.”

Jacob laughs, “Sangyeon.”

“What?”

“Do you want me to?” 

Sangyeon feels bewilderement and confusion all at once - the feeling triggers events of a fairly recent past. 

“Not really how it works,” he puts the cup down quietly. “I want to. Do you want to?” he swears his heart never hammered against his chest like that. If he concentrated too much, it would physically hurt.

Out of all the things he came to confess to Jacob ever, this one was definitely the one that made him feel more vulnerable (and, for now, he's not in the mood to dwell too much in the implications of that).

“I’m willing to try.”

And that’s, more or less, how it goes. 

**Author's Note:**

> sangyeon is a hopeless romantic and jacob is far (not really, but really) from that how do we make it work . i didn't really want to make it domestic at the end and it wasn't in my plans to make jacob want to settle down like that but u know what it's rainy i'm lonely and maybe i'm a hopeless romantic too and i listened to sangyeon's silent pained plea,


End file.
